


Impulsivity

by TrueTattoo



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alpha Emhyr var Emreis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Complete disregard for Omegaverse rules, Geralt has a knot, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Mating Cycles/In Heat, No beta we die like mne, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Rut, Rutting, Shameless Smut, Soulmates, Switching, Tender Emhyr, Was supposed to be PWP but gained a plot, cum, non traditional omega, slick, smut with feelings, witcher mutations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/pseuds/TrueTattoo
Summary: Geralt is called to Vizima after the events of blood and wine. Emhyr knows full well his daughter is alive, and he plans on confronting Geralt about it. But things take a turn when Geralt gets comfortable.
Relationships: Emhyr var Emreis/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 41
Kudos: 308
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	Impulsivity

**Author's Note:**

> My usual Beta is swamped with BiB! So this one gets posted without being Beta read.
> 
> If you see any major mistakes let me know!
> 
> First venture into the Omegaverse! and HERE WE GO!

_The common human comes in six primary sexes, and a variety of genders that sometimes are very difficult to classify. All sexes, and all genders have several things in common. The primary being a set of scent glands, near the jawline on the neck, as well as several lesser scent glands on the wrists, ankles, temples, and gonads. The gland at the base of the neck, holds a special significance for all sexes and Genders, for if it suffers trauma, in this case a mating bite, a bond is formed, and the pheromones that are released marks them mated, and their pheromones cannot effect anyone else but their mate for a time. For the purposes of this document, we shall focus on the sexes. The bulk majority of humanity, and to an extent, elven culture, are classified as Betas. Betas are primarius. The society of human culture is modeled after the Betas, since they are the most numerous._

_They present thusly, the male Beta human has a singular phallus, averaging around nine centimeters in length when not erect. When erect the phallus will swell and fill to about thirteen centimeters. Its appearance is thus, a singluar shaft which is often covered by a foreskin, which is pulled back when the phallus becomes erect. They are fertile, but generally categorize society and social interactions above their drives to reproduce. The foreskin can be removed for visual as well as health reasons, but it is not recommended. The female Beta presents with a vulva. They too are fertile and able to produce young, their cycles happen on a monthly basis, usually with the moon. They are the most fertile a singular week after their menstruation, when they ovulate silently, and without scent. If the female Beta is not impregnated, she will lose the lining which would house the fertile egg, causing her to bleed every month for an average of five days. It is recommended that proper care is taken of Beta females when they shed their lining as anemia is a very common symptom of their cycle. The Betas of society are the most even, emotionally. They are steadfast, and able to adapt quickly. While they do have homes and homesteads, there is no territorial drive in them. Because of this, they often make up for it, by banding together in villages and enclaves to keep themselves hale and hardy._

_The next gender group, is the Alpha. Alphas come in male and female form. Alpha males present thusly. They are normally larger than a Beta, muscular, and fierce. Their physical manifestation as Alphas cannot generally be seen unless you look closely upon their mouths, or you examine their genitals. Alpha males present with fangs, and their phallus is different than the normal of the Betas. Generally, the phallus is larger, and within the phallus exists a baculum. Because of the baculum, their genitalia generally take on the appearance of being erect, however the Baculum is there specifically to provide support during their mating. Much like the Betas, when erect, the genitals will extend in length, but the most significant change, is the knot, which is not unlike the knot of a wolf or dog. The knot will remain unseen until the moment of ejaculation, when it will swell. The purpose of this swelling is to keep the seed inside their mate for as long as possible, to increase the chances of pregnancy. Generally, a male Alpha is a danger. They are territorial and fierce, and tend to be off-putting, and very black and white when it comes to their reactions. Their drive to mate is fierce, and it can be triggered by a willing Beta, or an Omega._

_The biggest danger of an Alpha male, is when they are triggered into rut. Generally, a natural rut happens amongst Alphas twice a year. During this time, they are nearly animalistic in action, and in pursuit of a mate in which to impregnate. However, they can be triggered into rut, by the pheromones put out by an Omega who is in heat. For this reason, Alphas have been labeled a danger to society as a whole. Generally, they are forced into manual labor jobs, and encouraged to find a permanent mate early in their lives to settle them. Other solutions are heading a homestead or a farm, where they can look after people, and protect them, as a male Alpha that lacks a territory will attempt to take a place of living by force. Often times, if an Alpha cannot be controlled, they can indeed be castrated, and while this does not take away their drives completely, it does provide some comfort that they can live amongst society as a whole without being triggered into rut by pheromones. Several members of the church have gotten together and created elixirs in which can dull the drive of Alphas, and make them indistinguishable from their Beta counterparts. However, the elixir’s ingredients are expensive, and often cannot be afforded by the peasantry, so castration remains the best course of action._

_The Alpha female presents much like their Beta counterparts. They tend to be taller, more muscular then Beta women, but by such a degree that it is often negligible. Unlike their female Beta counterpoints, they are unable to carry children, as they lack a true womb. They have a vaginal opening, in which a womb would reside, but as far as studies have concluded, it’s to allow Alpha males to seek out strong partners during their rut. Also, unlike their Beta counterparts, they have a pseudo-penis. This pseudo penis lacks traditional testis, as those are located where the uterus is on a Beta. The phallus also has a baculum, or penis bone, and like their male counterparts, they have a knot, which will swell and tie them together with whomever they are mating with. Like their male counterpoints, they are very fertile, and they are able to produce sperm. However, unlike their male counterparts, they have breast tissue, and they can nurse their young, even if they can not carry them traditionally. Like their male counterparts, they can indeed be territorial, but they are much less so. Their view tends towards family, rather than fucking. However, like their male counterparts they can indeed go into rut, and it can be just as dangerous, if not more so, for a female Alpha retains her mind, and can plan and plot._

_Because of their anatomy, it is not recommended to attempt castration, as their testis are internal, and often times it can lead to great infections, partial removal of the organs, and death. If a female Alpha is uncontrollable, it is recommended that they are put down. Alpha females are often loners, who steer away from normal society, and who have difficulties blending in. It is recommended, to allow the female to mate with someone as soon as possible, so that she may remain stable, and pleasant._

_Both genders of Alpha produce a pheromone, which compels Betas, and Omegas to listen and obey them. This is a danger in and of itself, as it often leads to manipulation. However, because of this pheromone, the kings and queens of the continent are often Alphas, and they often will crown their own Alpha children. An Alpha as a king or queen, is a true sight to behold, for they are able to unite their people, and fight for their country unlike any other. However, an Alpha farm hand, or haberdasher, is often a danger, as they can become violent when they do not have a territory, nor people, in which to protect. Betas, while effected by the hormone, and the voice, are not want to lose their minds over it, and rarely experience anything but a little discomfort when this voice, or the pheromones are in use. However, Omegas are not as lucky._

_Omegas present differently than Alphas, or Betas. They are normally small in bone, and wide in hip. They share several characteristics among them, but first we shall go over the differences. The female Omega, is a prized being to behold. They are family makers. The whole of their physiology is made to produce and protect young. They are often vapid things, with little in the brain other than rearing, and the protection of their families and mates, and therefore are sought out by many to be the matriarch of the family unit. They have a vulva, and they have a uterus. Internally they often lack the ridges which line a Beta’s pelvis, which can complicate pregnancy, the pregnancy mortality rate, therefor, is very low even with Omegas who carry children that are overly large. Female Omegas are extremely fertile, and if they are taken when they are in heat, they will catch far more often than Beta females even during their ovulation cycle._

_The male Omega is a rarity, and are more sought then even the female Omega, simply because they lack the vapidity of the female, and are generally masculine and can handle tasks expected of them as males. As far as visual goes, they do indeed tend to be of smaller stature then their male Beta counterparts, and their hips are wider. They have Penis’s, and like the Beta’s they lack a baculum. Rumors state that they tend to have smaller genitalia then their Beta and Alpha counterparts, but this just isn’t true. They are well in line with the averages of the Betas, and like Betas they become erect when aroused._

_The differences are nearly all internal, the primary being they do not have a true anal open, nor a vaginal opening. Instead they have what is akin to a cloaca in lizards and birds, where the two tracts share a common duct. The male Beta has testis, and can get a Beta female, or another Omega female pregnant, but they also have a uterus and ovaries. Because of their unique anatomy, they also have Skene’s glands, and barthanon’s glands, which is generally thought to be only a female trait. The Skene’s gland is directly connected to the prostate, and when in heat, or severely aroused, it will produce a milky white fluid which is full of pheromones. The Bartholin’s glands, are located much closer to the cloaca’s opening, and therefor produce a mixture of mucus, and water, which helps lubricate the opening in preparation for intercourse. Like female Betas, their hips are wide to carry children, they will also get breasts after a babe is born, until it is weaned, or unless an Alpha female deems it her duty to breastfeed._

_The common trait that all Omega’s share, and this is what makes them a danger, is heat. Heat creates a need within Omegas to be bred. When an Omega hits a heat, and if they are left to roam free, they will release their pheromones, usually in one of the single most populated areas they can find, in hopes to nab a partner in which to mate with. Betas will notice their scent, as it is often sweet, and cloying. However, if an Alpha, or more than one Alpha is present, the danger is several fold. They have the singular ability to release Pheromones in which can instantly trigger rut in Alphas._

_This is a danger for both Omega’s and Alphas. Alphas tend to want to hoard Omegas if they can, and keep a harem of them, which due to the population size of the Omegas, leads to far more Alphas being present in society then Omegas. Omegas want a singular mate, and dislike being kept as a part of a dragon’s hoard, so if an Omega is mated by a hoarding Alpha, it can lead to emotional distress, and if the Omega attempts to run, it often times leads to their murder by the Alpha they run from._

_When an Omega releases their pheromones in a populated place, fights to the death are often unavoidable, with Betas often getting in the middle in attempts to stop the fights. An Omega can also not realize they are in due for a heat, and when it overtakes them, they can be taken advantage of. Public indecency is often the end result of an Omega in heat, in public, and due to the Alpha’s aggression, and indeed, the Omega’s aggression when in heat, it can lead to unfortunate public consequences._

_Because of the sexual characteristics of both Alpha’s and Omega’s they also fall prey to the underworld, more often than not. Omegas, often unable to work due to their disposition, and Alpha’s often kicked out of their families at a young age, especially if the family is headed by a male Alpha. Due to perceived aggression, Alpha’s who are kicked out of their families will often find their way into the underworld, and there is a very hefty black market for both Alphas and Omegas where it concerns the body trade. Omegas will often seek out whore houses in which to ply their trade at…_

Geralt slammed the book shut, and scowled at it like it had bit him. Tripe. It was all tripe. He flipped the book over idly wondering who wrote it, and he was unsurprised to find “Shashta Orlorius, Priest of the second degree of the church of eternal fire” embossed on the cover, in which the title read “Beta, a true take on the true nature of humanity.” Grunting, he tossed the book aside on the bench he was sitting on, and a small chuckle hit his ears. 

“I take it that the reading was not to your liking?” Geralt glared as the Emperor, flanked on all sides by guards, and followed closely by his ever-faithful servant Mererid. Geralt growled under his breath, as Emhyr approached him. 

“Indeed, this book is one of the many in which we are currently having to amend with an addendum stating that the viewpoints are out of date.” Emhyr flipped open the book, and frowned slightly. 

“They intersperse irrefutable fact, with fiction, and then sell it to the masses, who see the science, and think it is a wise book and don’t question it.” Geralt huffed, standing up. The guards tensed, and Emhyr waved them down. Emhyr looked at Geralt, his expression searching for a moment, before he snapped the book shut, and tossed it on the bench. 

“Such is the way of the masses.” Emhyr growled, then motioned to Mererid. “Forgive me Geralt, but you must wait a little longer, Mererid here will lead you to my office, I must attend to something immediate, I had been informed you had arrived several hours ago, however this little issue has taken up most of my day. And while you have been a consummate guest, I must ask that you retire to my office to wait for me, as this is going to take a few more hours yet.”

“Keeping me out of sight to keep the gossip down?” Geralt frowned. 

“More to keep you out of the line of fire, as this issue that I am handling directly deals with you.” Emhyr cast him a warning look. Geralt curled his lip in what seemed like a sneer, but he was taking in the scents around him. Emhyr’s guard was a solid mix of Alphas, and Betas, and one singularly large Omega. Their scents were free of tampering, and no one was on the sordid medications that most of the rulers demanded of those around them. Their scents, all of them, were nervous. Whatever was happening had them all on edge. When he caught Emhyr’s scent, the powerful pull of Alpha radiated from him, but in a way that was unique to those in Nilfgaard, who did not hide themselves. He snorted to clear his nose. 

“Fine then, see you in a few.” Geralt turned and Mererid fell in beside him, and they waited for Emhyr to pass down a hallway. 

Mererid snorted.

“The Gentleman needs a bath.” He said unceremoniously, and Geralt winced. 

“Yeah, I do.” He admitted, and Mererid turned to him with a surprised expression. Geralt shrugged. “They found me right as I dispatched a grave hag, I smell like death, and I will happily take you up on your most generous offer.” 

Mererid’s face brightened in approval, and he began to walk. 

“This way, if the gentleman pleases.”

The palace of Vizima was a winding thing, full of gardens, nooks, and mazes. Geralt knew Emhyr had at least two offices, for Foltest had two. He had the simple office, in which Geralt had met Emhyr the first time, and the personal office, in which Geralt had met Foltest in, more often than not. They stopped twice, once for Mererid to inform the staff that Geralt would need to be fed, for he wasn’t sure how long Emhyr would be, and the second, to grab ahold of the staff, and inform them to bring a bath to Emhyr’s personal office. This apparently was common enough that no one batted an eye, and Mererid lead him into the office. 

Geralt’s eyes softened when he arrived in the familiar space, which was made unfamiliar by the new tenant. While he knew he was here for reasons he would rather not be, Emhyr hadn’t seemed too overly upset. 

“You should not have lied to him.” Mererid said, when the doors closed, and the groom approached them both, raising his eyes to Mererid, who nodded. 

“It was left to Ciri.” Geralt shook his head. “She wanted a few years on the path to see if that is the life she wanted. I knew he wouldn’t believe me, but it afforded her the time to really examine what she wanted out of life, and you will reap the benefit.”

“I cannot fault you for wanting to protect your charge.” Mererid shook his head, as the groom began to strip Geralt free of his soiled armor. “However, it broke his majesties’ heart.”

Geralt balked at the frank admission. But Mererid was not looking at him. He was at a small table near the baths, that smelled of herbs and oils. 

“I am sure it did.” Geralt grunted snidely, wrinkling his nose as his own foul scent flooded the room.

“I personally, sided with you, most adamantly.” Another frank, and startling admission from Emhyr’s majordomo made Geralt stand straight in surprise. “The political climate being what it was, it was not a safe pace for her here. You allowed her freedom, and it allowed his Majesty to maneuver without fear of his progeny being used against him. A thing he will not admit to you, but one I shall share anyway, for as her surrogate, you need to understand the true favor you did.”

Geralt grunted, as his shirt was unpeeled from his chest, and the wound he had suffered while fighting the grave hag broke open yet again. The groom made a startled noise, and Mererid turned, his eyes widening. 

“I was unaware that you were injured.” Mererid said, and Geralt winced as he lifted his arm. 

“It’ll heal quick.” Geralt snorted. Mererid shook his head, grabbed one of the servants, and then the small man scuttled off quickly. 

“We will see to the wound, after the bath.” Mererid intoned, wrinkling his nose as the groom pulled off Geralt’s pants and braies. “We will send your clothing to be washed and mended, and your armor to be repaired. If they are not ready by this evening when you depart, they will be ready for you tomorrow, in the meanwhile, we shall provide you with an outfit which meets your comfort.”

Geralt winced, and maids rolled in a second, smaller tub. 

“Step in here, please, we shall wash most of the refuse off you, so you can be scrubbed properly in the bath.”

Geralt did so, and then he allowed himself to be moved and maneuvered, knowing full well that he was both exhausted, and had no want to fight, and that fighting would get him nowhere. Resigned to his fate like a dog sprayed by a skunk, he allowed the groom and the maids to scrub his body with a harsh soap, which stung his nose, and to wash his hair free of most of the filth. 

When he finally was allowed in the bath, it had cooled off enough that he wouldn’t burn his skin, and he sunk into the heat with a small sigh. Immediately the maids were around him, and Geralt could scent two Beta females, and an Omega. The Omega’s scent was floral, and fruity, and she held a high blush on her cheeks. Geralt balked.

“Miss Var Harrington, is indeed an Omega, and she is in heat.” Mererid cast a sour look to Geralt. “Our customs are different, and I ask that you do not move against her, as it would be unwise on your behalf.”

Geralt laughed, a throaty laugh. 

“Witcher remember?” He said leaning back as the arms began to massage his aching muscles, avoiding the place where he was injured. 

“Yes, and Witcher’s have a reputation for being lecherous.” Mererid looked down on him without pause. 

“Oh, _we are,_ but only amongst the truly willing.” Geralt chuckled. 

There was a feint sigh behind him, and the smell of nervousness washed away, and the pleasant smell of the Omega washed over him. He smiled softly, as the hands began to truly scrub him, and wash his hair properly, with a soft smelling soap that had to be Emhyr’s personal blend. Mererid busied himself while Geralt was seen too, and eventually left to soak in the lightly scented tub and relax. 

It was a quiet affair, far less boisterous then the last time he had been forced into a bath at Mererid’s request. And the soft feel of human contact against him, did wonders for his mind. He found himself dozing softly, until one of the Beta’s picked up his leg, which was resting at the edge of the tub, and began to trim his toenails. He allowed it, willing himself to be still as she trimmed his nails, and began to file and shape the calluses of his feet. He growled softly, but she wasn’t to be deterred, and she saw her task through to the end, before lifting his other foot and performing the exact same procedure on it. 

In the end, his feet were pink, and as soft as they would get, his skin was moist and red from the bath, and his hair had been stripped clean of weeks of road dust and debris. 

Geralt was told to stand, and the groomsman began to dry him off, and the Omega maid stole a look to his cock, the blush on her cheeks reddening further, and making Geralt smirk. He was brought back to the present, when the doctor arrived, and tended to Geralt’s wound quickly and efficiently. The stitches stung, but the salve he used was strong enough to affect him, and the wound’s sting quickly faded to a gentle warmth. He was bandaged tersely, and the doctor saw himself out quickly. Mererid meanwhile was helping set up a table of food Geralt could eat. Geralt’s stomach gave a small lurch at the prospect, and how much of it there was. When at last he was dried, he readied himself to squeeze into a doublet, but was surprised when a fairly simple, for Nilfgaardian standards, white silk shirt with pleated ruffles and lace was placed over his shoulders.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and nodded to himself. The shirt was loose, and flowing, but had a masculine cut which showed of the strength in his shoulders. The pants were also simple, and more hose then pants really. They were tight, but they had a give to them that Geralt had only ever experienced in Toussaint. He shook his head bitterly when he thought of it, and instead turned himself to the table. 

“I must leave now,” Mererid said nodding to Geralt. “The gentleman will help himself. The books on the shelves are fiction on this wall, the gentleman may choose from among them for entertainment.”

Geralt nodded and hmmed, and Mererid inclined his head slightly, before turning to walk out of the room. Geralt ate in silence, and watched as the maids, also in silence, lifted a wooden trap door near the wall, and pulled the bung on the tub. Water leaked out of it, and to the hole in the floor. A drain, for just such occasions, how droll. After they had drained the tub, another wash of servants came in, and saw it away, and all the maids left. 

Geralt was left alone, or as alone as one could be in a palace. Just the groomsman, who had settled at a side desk, and was reading softly, and the guards, who watched Geralt’s movement like hawks. He used the moment to look at the room and how it had changed. Unlike the other office, this one was full of Emhyr’s personal effects. He saw comfort items here. He saw the pillow on his chair, which was old and worn and had seen much use. He saw the slippers, which were settled near his desk. He saw small sculptures, several of which were hedgehogs. And there was a taxidermy mount of a small hedgehog in armor, fighting a snake, also in armor, who had a sword looped in the end of his tail. The whimsy of it made Geralt smile, and it made him pause. He hadn’t realized that Emhyr had a sense of humor about his old predicament. 

Further investigation of the room made Geralt realize that Emhyr, for being the most powerful man in the world, was also just that, a man. He could see where the rich carpet had been cleaned, but there was staining from wine, or blood on it that a normal human’s eyes wouldn’t catch. He could see the furrows in the carpet, where Emhyr would likely habitually pace back and forth. He could also see the trails on the ground where the maids hadn’t done their due diligence, and he could see that the slippers were made use of often, with the soft footprints in the small coat of dust on the ground. 

But the thing that stuck him, more than anything else physically in the room, was the scent of the man. The pure _Alpha_ scent sat upon every surface, and it wasn’t harsh, like Geralt had gotten used to, but rather a soft scent, a powerful scent. It was the same scent that had made him want to help him all those years ago when he was cursed. Alpha but not demanding. Just there.

Once he had eaten his fill, and truth be told, gotten tired of just looking around the room, he stood up. The guards all shifted, but the groomsman just looked up at him, waiting to see if Geralt had a demand. Geralt didn’t, he just wanted to get a book. He looked amongst the shelves, and he began to narrow down his search based on a single criterion, the most worn, and well-read among them. He narrowed it down to three, and chose one at random, picking it out without looking properly at the title, and then went to one of the large chairs which was set in front of a cold hearth. 

He began to read a story about mer-people, one that had been read many times. Enough that Emhyr’s scent was carried amongst its pages. He thought maybe after he was moved to the office, he would feel trapped. But instead, as he listened to the rush of people who were going back and forth through the hall, he felt an unusual sensation. He felt safe. He was tucked away, with a minimum of people around him. He had been fed, he had been bathed, and now, he was told he could just sit for a few moments and read. He felt a small warmth come over him as he lounged back into the chair, and put his still bare feet upon the ottoman. He adjusted the candle beside him, as the sunlight began to wane, and fell into the story, the scent of Emhyr and the guards flooding him, making him feel strangely at peace.

* * *

_“Geralt… Geralt? Are you well?”_

Geralt inhaled deeply, his eyes heavy, his body slightly over warm but very comfortable. Something wonderful was flooding his nose, something that reminded him of the safety of Kaer Morhen before it was destroyed, and abandoned. He took a deep draw of it, and a small purr issued from his throat. 

“Well, that is new, to say the least.” 

The voice shocked Geralt into action. He was up and out of the chair, throwing the book to the floor in his motion, as he spun around to face the intruder. Wide whisky brown eyes glared back at him, and the guards who surrounded him, drew their swords. Geralt frantically looked around the room, his senses were muddled by the absolute feeling of safety they were pulsing at him. It took him a few moments to realize where he was, and that he had fallen asleep. He stood up straight, blinked owlishly, and then stretched. 

“Ah, well, your advice captain, seemed well warranted, thank you.” Emhyr said, nodded to the captain of the guard, who had sheathed his sword once more. The others followed suit, and Geralt felt his muscles relax, and the infernal purr that was trying to sell its way up his throat began to rattle silently. Emhyr regarded him with amusement, and then his expression hardened. 

“I can see I need not ask if you were comfortable waiting.” He drawled, rounding his desk. “It took far longer than I anticipated, and it is late in the eve now. I trust my attendants saw to your needs sufficiently?”

“They scrubbed my skin, tended my shoulder, and fucked off, so yeah.” Geralt grunted, and there was a muffled inhale of shock from Mererid. Emhyr made a sour face, but shook his head softly, and motioned to one of the much less comfortable chairs in front of his desk. 

“Your crude language will gain you no favors here.” Emhyr growled. It made Geralt’s purr slightly more apparent, and Geralt smiled, the purr changing pitch as he opened his mouth. 

“Far be it from me to temper myself in front of anyone, including you Emhyr.” Geralt smirked, rounding the chair and sitting it in with little ceremony. When he sat, he winced slightly, perhaps he had pulled a muscle he didn’t realize fighting the grave hag? Emhyr had noticed his discomfort, and his brows shot up. Geralt took another breath in, and now he could smell stress on Emhyr. He frowned and his discomfort faded into the background. 

“What is this about?” Geralt asked. Emhyr nodded to Mererid, who brought Geralt a letter. 

“We have received a petition from her illustrious grace, Anna Henrietta, that one Geralt of Rivia should be immediately listed as an enemy to the state.” Emhyr drawled, and Geralt’s eyes widened, reading the letter. “She says, that you have committed an act most foul, besmirching the good name of witchers, and witchering, you have allowed her sister to be murdered, and you let a vampire go.”

Geralt read through the letter, which sounded less like a formal petition, and more like a whining child, demanding that Geralt’s head be sent to her on a platter. 

“I want the truth of it Geralt, _now_.” Emhyr demanded staring at him from across the desk. Geralt looked at the letter, and put it down. 

“So, this isn’t about Ciri?” He asked, and Emhyr’s expression already bordering on icy, became a tomb. 

“One of the issues, which shall be addressed in good time.” Emhyr’s voice was hard, demanding, verging right on the edge of an Alpha demand. Geralt’s mouth went momentarily dry, and he picked up the cup which was filled with water, and took a sip of it. It was cool, delicious, and clean. 

“It was a personal matter.” Geralt’s voice was stiff, and a slight bit hoarse, the purr disappearing entirely as annoyance ripped through him. 

“A personal matter which lead to the murder of a missing princess?” Emhyr raised his brow. 

“Fine.” Geralt bit out. “Long or short?”

“Neither.” Emhyr said. “Give me the important information, and I will decide my course of action from there.”

Geralt nodded, and he felt a strange respect for the man. 

“Fine then,” Geralt sniffed the air again, and Emhyr’s stress was still present, but so was curiosity. Emhyr’s nose flared too, but Geralt decided to ignore it. “I was called down to the Duchy to find a murderer. When I arrived there, another murder by the same person had just taken place. When I was brought to Corvo Bianco to examine said body, it was being guarded by a Bruxa. I killed the Bruxa, and then I examined the body, and I found a hand that was not the body’s own, that was still warm and twitching.”

Emhyr had leaned forward, and didn’t interrupt Geralt, so he continued onwards. 

“I knew immediately what I had was not of the common vampire, but of a higher vampire.” Geralt shrugged. “I was simply hired to ferret out a murderer, and possibly discover if there was a monstrous presence behind it. Normally I would have said no the second I found out that it was a higher vampire, but I owed the duchess much for allowing us safe harbor in my search for Ciri years ago. So, I agreed to investigate it.”

“And it was a higher vampire?” Emhyr asked, his voice flat. 

“Yes.” Geralt nodded. “We made the discovery when Milton De Peyrac-Payren was killed in the gardens during a castle event, and I chased the culprit down in attempts to figure out why he was killing. You see, the bodies were not murdered in a way that a vampire is known for murdering, but rather, it was planned, the bodies were posed, and notes and items were found at the scenes of the crimes which lent it to a serial killer type scenario. A Serial killer vampire? One that killed for the thrill of it? Not for the blood in the body? It’s unheard of.”

“When I caught him, and confronted him, I nearly got myself killed, but I was saved, by a friend, and another vampire, who stepped in front of me and took the fatal blow.” Geralt grunted, the memory of Regis fresh in his mind, even though the event was nearly a year ago. “When I confronted him, he told me that Dettlaff, the vampire I had chased, was not normally like that, I _trusted_ him.”

“This was the same vampire who you traveled with when you were trying to find my daughter?” Emhyr asked, curiosity piqued. 

“The same.” Geralt grunted, knowing full well if he just told the truth, no matter how fantastical, Emhyr would have no choice but to believe him. “We wound up tracking him, and I wound up learning who this vampire was through a special potion called resonance, which nearly killed me, and nearly killed Regis. We tracked Dettlaff’s steps, found out he was a toymaker, and found a curious note, mentioning blackmail. It turns out, Dettlaff’s love had apparently been kidnapped by some men, and they were blackmailing him into murdering for them.”

“One of the notes Dettlaff had received was stained with wine, and in a slight hope of finding the culprits we took it to Anna Henrietta, who had her sommelier take a sniff of it, and it turned out to be Sangreal. We tracked down a lead, which lead us to a man called the Cintrian. The Cintrian was said to be attending a party, and so Anna Henrietta and myself went to the party to attempt to find him. Well, the proprietor of the party found him first, and shoved him out a window and he died, so that lead was lost. We met with Orianna to question her, and much to my surprise, Regis had shown up with Dettlaff. There we found out that Orianna had thwarted the attempted theft of a jewel that was gifted to her a few years prior, which turned out to be a set of the crown jewels which was stolen. The theft was being completed by the Cintrian, and as he was dead.” 

“So, the leads were gone?” Emhyr asked frowning. 

“Not entirely, no.” Geralt shook his head. “No, Anna Henrietta demanded that we investigate the vineyard where Sangreal was bottled, as it was only meant for the royal table, to give it to another was a theft. Well, the Cintrian had slipped up, because someone caught him attempting to sell a barrel of it. To sell a barrel of it, meant that he had access to the vineyard, be it through theft, or another means, and so we set about to find out.”

Geralt shook his head. 

“This is where it went to shit.” Geralt said. “Anna Henrietta sent me to sneak in to see if we could find the culprits, while her men provided a distraction at the main gate. When I arrived, I was overrun, and the Hanse that was there at the vineyard itself was full of trained men with service experience. I was lucky when Regis and Dettlaff came to help.”

“They helped you?” Emhyr sat up, not bothering to veil his curiosity. 

“Regis is a good friend, and Dettlaff is a kind soul.” Geralt bit out. “They helped me, and Dettlaff was beside himself. For him, this was a rescue mission, for his beloved was a captive of these men. However, that was not the case.” 

“What do you mean?” Emhyr frowned, looking to Mererid. “Why was I not told of any of this?”

Mererid had gone pale, and was scribbling things down in a notebook as quick as he could. Emhyr growled low and turned back to Geralt. 

“When we arrived to the room where Dettlaff’s lover was supposedly held captive, we learned in short order that she was not, and that she had lied to Dettlaff about her lineage.” Geralt growled, remembering the betrayal keenly. “The one who was behind the murders, and Dettlaff’s long-lost love, was one in the same. Princess Silvia Anna, or Syanna as she is called. When she admitted that she was not kidnapped, and she was not who she said she was, Dettlaff showed remarkable constraint, and instead of lashing out right away, he informed her she had three days in which to think over what she had done, and that he would be awaiting answers.” 

“When we took Syanna down to the courtyard, where Anna Henrietta was waiting, we learned a harsh reality.” Geralt shook his head. “Syanna was born a child of the black sun, she was sent away from her family after a prank had gone wrong, and a Nilfgaardian ambassador had been injured grievously, by a suet bomb set alight. She was deemed a menace, and banished. The men who had been murdered, to a one, had abused the princess on the way out of the kingdom, and instead of being left with the customary cart, dowry, and letter of sanctuary, she was left with bare rags covering her body, and left for dead in the winter.” 

Emhyr’s eyes had gotten wide. 

“We returned her to the palace, and Syanna insisted that she needed to meet with Dettlaff to explain things, but Anna Henrietta would hear none of it.” Geralt said shaking his head. “Three days passed, and Regis and I went to collect the princess, But Anna Henrietta had imprisoned her, and kept her under lock and key. We demanded her release, but Anna Henrietta stuck her nose in the air and informed us that it wouldn’t happen. Both Regis and myself warned her, that if she didn’t appear in front of Dettlaff, it would mean disaster, but she insisted that she would declare war on him.”

“That _fool._ ” Emhyr was glowering. 

“It was worse than that, because Dettlaff, broken hearted and betrayed on multiple fronts, had frayed, and had snapped.” Geralt sighed, remembering the pain on the vampire’s face. “He held himself better than a man in his position could have ever hoped to, but when he broke, so too did his flock. And the Beast of Beauclair showed his claws. He sent his hoard to the city to try and find the princess, and was angered when he could not, and so he set the vampires upon them.”

Emhyr was looking at him his eyes burning in anger. 

“What then?” 

“Regis and I made an investigation of the palace while the vampires attacked, to try to figure out where the princess was held, we found it, along with a diary containing the governesses notes on the princesses as they grew up, and from those notes we surmised that Anna Henrietta was a key player in the banishment of her sister, for she was the one that instigated most of problems she faced as a girl. The princess was being held in a magical prison, created by Arcturus Vigo. I went in to rescue her, as Regis could not, and it was there that I learned how twisted she had become.”

“She was an Alpha.” Geralt looked at Emhyr steadily. “Anna Henrietta was a Beta. Syanna had lost her mind when her family, life, and territory was taken from her, and she went mad with the need to punish those who raped her, and to take back the lands that she knew were hers by rights. In this madness she turned to murdering, to manipulating. She manipulated a vampire, one of the most dangerous creatures on this world. She had lost her mind. She attempted to bed me, but I refused, and then we took her to meet with Dettlaff.” 

“Wait, why would she try to bed you?” Emhyr frowned. 

“She said she had longed for the touch of a real man.” Geralt shook his head. “But I wasn’t about to let a mad Alpha anywhere near me, so I refused and held her off. If I could hazard a guess, the excitement and her capture sent her into a rut. But in either case, we got her out of there, and got her to the meeting place.”

Emhyr nodded his lips thinning. 

“We spoke of her reasoning’s then, while we were waiting for Dettlaff, I should have known that he was there, listening to us. She admitted to just wanting to use Dettlaff, she admitted that she was drawn to his power. She admitted she enjoyed using him, but she regretted it to some extent because while she needed to do this, she still loved Dettlaff, even if she was afraid of him. Her Alpha instincts were Jealous of him, and the fact that she could be overpowered. It turned to fear when she realized she could not control him like others, and she ran from him.” 

“And what happened?”

“Dettlaff came to her, after he had heard everything, and he knew her Alpha madness.” Geralt sighed. “He killed her, hoping that the action would spur me into action, and kill him.” 

“And why didn’t you?” Emhyr asked, his glare back to being icy. 

“Because, if Anna Henrietta had just listened to me, and let her sister come to Dettlaff, the whole city would have been spared.” Geralt’s voice was harsh and vehement. “If Syanna had come to Dettlaff, and told him the truth, she would have still been alive, but she manipulated him. If she had come to you, and informed you of what happened to her, you would have torn after the royal family. But none of those things happened. Instead, I watched as a vampire, who by all means was an innocent in all this, was pushed to the breaking point by all involved. I couldn’t condemn him, and I didn’t want to.”

“So, you let him go.” Emhyr said, his voice cryptic now. “What happened after.” 

Geralt winced, and Emhyr caught it. 

“I took the body back, and I was put into prison for kidnapping, and murder.” Geralt said, and Emhyr’s brows rose. “I was mistreated, not fed, and shown gallows every day for nearly a month. On the day of my execution, my good friend Dandelion had arrived, and had managed to convince her that I was not worth the trouble of execution.”

“She let you go then?” Emhyr looked to Geralt confused. 

“Indeed.” Geralt nodded. “I was let go, I was not paid, but I was given an estate, Corvo Bianco, for my troubles. However, Regis had found the name of the fifth and final victim, and I knew when I saw the name, that she had to know. Syanna had listed her sister as the final victim, the final virtue. When I told Her highness, she bawled and cried and lashed out and told me never, but her scent was wrong. She knew it. She knew she was the final victim, and the tears she shed for her sister? They were tears of happiness.”

“And you know this because of scent?” Emhyr asked. 

“Yes.” Geralt nodded. “I also knew that I couldn’t stick around, for Anna Henrietta is a fickle bitch, so the second I could, I took off, leaving the estate to my Majordomo.”

Emhyr sat back in his chair, and sighed. He looked to the Letter, and then looked to Mererid, who nodded. 

“Then what was told to me, is indeed the truth, and the evidence that was gathered, were not false flags, Captain Moehenn? Please issue an arrest warrant, and arrange an extradition of the Duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta. The warrant shall read she is wanted for Treason, Murder most high, sororicide, Democide, theft, embezzlement, tax fraud, harassment, sexual assault in the second degree, trafficking, and any other charges that we can muster against her.” 

The man bowed deeply. “Yes, your grace.” 

“You have confirmed much of what had been plaguing me.” Emhyr sat back up straight, brushing off his arms, and Geralt smelled the tension, and stress ease from Emhyr. Geralt had been nervous, his body getting warmer as he told the story. The room almost felt stifling. 

Emhyr turned to Mererid, as Geralt picked up the glass and finished it off. Immediately the groom was there, pouring him another from an enchanted carafe that kept the water a hair above freezing completely. Geralt drunk deeply, until he felt Emhyr’s eyes back on him. 

“Are you sure you are feeling well Geralt?” Emhyr asked, concern filtering into his voice. His voice, his damned _Alpha_ voice, which was warm, rich, and had a caste of amusement to it as he looked at Geralt. 

“Warm.” Geralt replied bluntly. 

“Open the windows.” Emhyr looked to the groom, who went and did as he was told. “You see Geralt, that letter came to me, a month ago, and I had been bemoaning reading it. When I read it, I got angry, because I was angry at you. But then, Ciri contacted me and told me she wished to meet.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed, and he felt a growl building. 

“I spoke to her at great length about a great many things, the primary of which was the unfairness the people suffered, and the stupidity of rulers.” Emhyr said candidly as a cool breeze blew into the room, fluttering the heavy velvet Curtains. Geralt sighed in relief. “So now we come to the second part of why you are here.”

Geralt felt oddly hazy, and he frowned trying to focus on Emhyr. He tried to activate his mutations, but they were responding sluggishly.

“Lemme guess, it’s because I lied to you?”

Emhyr chuckled, and the chuckle went straight down Geralt spine. The second it did, he realized why he was so warm, why Emhyr was smelling so damned good. Sitting up, and a great deal more aware and awake then he had been, he called upon his mutations to awake fully, both to regulate his temperature, and to prevent the scent his body was preparing to release. Now was not the time for this to hit. 

“I knew the moment you said the words to me, that they were a lie.” Emhyr frowned, pointing to his nose. “One of the aftereffects of my curse is a keen sense of smell, far beyond what normal humanity has.”

Geralt swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, and he took the water like a lifeline. 

“No, I needed to gauge your truthfulness, and Anna Henrietta had just provided the fuel I needed.” Emhyr sighed. “You didn’t lie, however, about Ciri not mentioning me before she set off to fight the white frost.” 

“Why would she think of you?” Geralt snarled, irritation flooding through him. “You hunted her, you hounded her, you wanted her for what? You knew she was an Omega, you knew it, and you were planning on using it.”

“You are right.” Emhyr acquiesced, and Geralt’s eyes widened. “She is an Omega, and I am her father, an Alpha. And an Alpha’s priority, when not addled by magic or spells, is to protect his progeny.”

“You lie.” 

“I speak the truth.” Emhyr stood up. And motioned for the guards to back off. Come here, and let yourself smell it on me."

Geralt growled, low, and approached. Mererid made a small noise of protest, but Emhyr waved his hand to silence him. 

“Tell me, Emhyr, what do you want to do to her? What are your plans for her now that she is coming back into your clutches?” Geralt leaned forward, and Emhyr began to speak. 

“I was entranced, and you broke the spell on me by Killing Vilgefortz.” Emhyr’s voice was low beside his ear, and Geralt was sniffing in quick bursts, the warm scent of Emhyr flooding him. “You freed me, and then I spent years in agony trying to figure out what I could do to make up for the man I had been twisted into. When I called you hear nearly five years ago to find my daughter, you looked for her for my sake because you could smell the truth in my words. You allowed her to meet with me, and you proved yourself admirable by not taking my money or the reward. She had become your daughter, and you protected her, you kept her as safe as you could, and she proved all of us wrong when she took on an insurmountable task, and completed it. And then, thinking only of her, you shielded her from me. Now, she has come back to me, on her own. You did what I could not, you protected her.” 

Geralt had leaned further into Emhyr’s neck, nearly forgetting what he was saying as soon as it left his lips. He knew Emhyr wasn’t lying, he wanted to ask questions, but his mind was fully focused on the scent. Geralt knew all eyes were on him, but the burning temptation that was driving him was outpacing his mutations, as it always managed to do, but this time far faster. Fuck. He had felt safe, and content for only a moment, and that’s all it took.

“You protected her, and allowed her to come back to me… and I owe you… I owe you so damned much.” Emhyr’s voice was honey to his ears, and Geralt lifted his lips, scenting him fully, his face was inching closer… “You know what it’s like, because you lost her. You know the pain I have suffered, because you lived it. You know the agony that wells when your own stupid mistakes lead to the removal of the most important person in your life from you. You know it, you have lived it.”

Whatever control Geralt had, broke with those words, and his nose was on Emhyr’s neck. Emhyr made a shocked sort of noise, but Geralt had his hands on his shoulders in an instant, his nose pressed against the gland on the underside of his jaw on his neck. The second he made contact with it, arousal, thick, clear, and enticing flooded from Emhyr. Alpha. The word kicked around Geralt’s head as the heat began to gather back to him, and he began to feel the telltale leak in the tightness in his trousers. 

“Step away.” Emhyr’s voice was firm, and he wasn’t addressing Geralt, oh no, his hand had found the small of Geralt’s back and was holding him firmly in place. Geralt was panting, his nose burying itself into the warm skin which held a five o ‘clock shadow, and the scent of sandalwood, stress and arousal. He was working himself into a frenzy just with the scent, and his mouth was open, panting, wanting to taste the man. 

The sudden press of Emhyr into his own scent gland, made his body release the pheromones purely on instinct. He groaned as he tried to focus, tried to pull himself away. But he was getting ready to make a fool of himself. Emhyr growled, but it wasn’t a possessive growl, it was one of confusion, of restraint. When he felt a warm tongue on his neck, Geralt finally got his wits about him, and he stood up sharply, dancing away from Emhyr’s grasp. Emhyr also came back to himself, and the guards surrounding him looked to Geralt, their own scents reacting to his, though they made no move against him. 

“Geralt,” Emhyr said, his voice husky, and raw. “I find myself at an impasse.”

Geralt felt bile build in his throat. He had someone who had responded to his scent, truly _responded_ to it. Not the fond familiarity of his brothers in arms, who would see to him with a cheeky grin, not the perfunctory motions of a paid Alpha who would pretend like he was interested in the witcher. No, Emhyr had ducked into him, scented him, and nearly lost himself. He was going to reject him, and Geralt would have to bolt to find an Alpha who was kind enough to do him a favor. He stood still, not trusting himself not to run. 

“I would ask, that you attend to me in my chambers,” Emhyr’s whisky thick voice purred, looking perfectly at ease. “But I am not ordering it. Far from it. I would enjoy your company, but I will not have it If you do not truly want to give it. It will be an inconvenience either way, as I do not partake in suppressants, and I will be indisposed for a week. I would rather…”

He trailed off, and Geralt wanted to bury his nose in Emhyr’s neck again. The feeling built, and built, and his body was singing. His body knew. He clenched his fists, and his back side was aching and dripping, soiling the pants he was wearing, and spreading his scent, which he had made careful pains to keep hidden. 

“You are an Omega.” Emhyr looked at him his eyes widening with the revelation, and Geralt felt his chest tighten. “You… you want me?” 

Emhyr’s voice sounded so vulnerable, so hopeful. Oh, how Geralt wished he was doing this without an audience. He winced, and nodded, not trusting his voice to do anything but beg. He wanted to beg, he wanted to plead, he wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in Emhyr’s neck, and taste his skin. 

“Mererid, make preparations at once.” Emhyr called out, straitening himself out, and brushing down his robes. “Open the walls, we will be traveling to the black room.”

“Black room?” Geralt choked out, his voice a husky mess. 

“Yes, it is a room, which unlike my primary room, is guarded from the outside, not within.” Emhyr took an involuntary breath in. “It is warded, and only myself, Mererid, and one single guest may enter. You will be safe there; I will make sure of it.” 

_Safe…. Alpha_ …. Geralt whined a little, and stumbled forwards, his knees shaking with the effort of not throwing himself to the floor. “ _Please_ …”

The begging note was not lost on Emhyr, and he nodded, tersely, seemingly fully in control of himself and his actions, while Geralt was falling apart. 

“Move.” He walked over to Geralt, and placed his hand around Geralt’s neck. Geralt shuddered at the contact, but managed to stand up straight, and not hunch into the agony that his insides were in at the moment. The guard’s moved, and Mererid did as well. One of the bookshelves swung out, and Geralt was led into a corridor, guided by Emhyr’s hand. They didn’t have to travel far, just around a bend, and up a small set of stairs. Mererid dashed forward, placing his hand against a wall, and opening the room up. 

“If you can but wait a moment.” He intoned. 

Geralt was shivering with the effort of remaining still. Emhyr, Emhyr was looking straight ahead, his nose flaring, and his breaths uneven. Geralt admired him for a moment, for his ability to remain stoic in the most complicated of circumstances. There was shouting, and the sound of things being moved, and arranged. Mererid retuned a moment later looking harried. 

“It’s been activated.” He said, and then Geralt gasped as Mererid’s form shifted, and a perfect mimic of Emhyr stood in front of him. 

“A Doppler?” Geralt hissed through his teeth. 

“An Emperor can never be away from his duties, even when needs must.” Emhyr said, and then stepped forward, brushing past Mererid wearing Emhyr’s skin. “Mererid, lead on the Van Der Lynn’s. Tell the guild to fuck off, and please, please, do not let Morvran get word that Ciri shall be arriving in a month.”

Mererid bowed low, and Geralt looked back only for a moment before the hand guided him forward. 

“I shall do my upmost.” He said, and then Emhyr pushed Geralt through the door, and it closed. Geralt’s amulet shook against his chest, and he looked into the room. The windows were open, and wind was coming through, but no sound could be heard from the outside. And the room? It was opulent. Furs were scattered everywhere, but so were other items. He felt the hand leave his neck, and he rushed forward, stripping the shirt off of his heated skin. 

He tossed it aside, and then let his nose guide him. He sensed Emhyr waiting in the wings, but Emhyr? He knew about this. He knew what Geralt was getting ready to do. Geralt gathered up every clothing item he could find, and realized most of it was undershirts, braies, and soft pants that had been warn recently and not washed. He could smell Emhyr over every item, and he salivated as he piled it up. And then rushed into the center of the room. 

He dragged everything he could find into the center, blankets, furs, pillows, and he made a nest. He had done this before, made nests, but never with such opulent items. He was perfunctory in his actions; he had a century just about to hone his taste in nests. When he was finished building it, he rooted around it in for a few moments, filling in gaps, and shoring up walls, and then he unceremoniously dumped every last article of Emhyr’s clothing into the nest. 

“You want… them all?” It was the first words Emhyr had spoken, and Geralt turned to look at him. He was stripped down. Geralt growled, and grabbed Emhyr’s discarded robes, feeling more like a goblin then a witcher at the moment, and he threw those in the nest too. Emhyr didn’t protest, just looked on in awe. 

Once he was satisfied with that, he whined, and moved to Emhyr. Emhyr’s cock was hard, leaking, and the scent of Alpha filled his senses. His nose was buried in Emhyr’s neck, all but clinging to him as he took breath after breath of the man, loosing himself to the scent of him. 

“Geralt, far be it from me to resist this little temptation you have made, but I have to know a few things.” Geralt shuddered, but didn’t move from his spot against Emhyr. Emhyr’s scent was still warm, and pleasant, and Geralt wanted to lick and bite, but held himself still. 

“You are a witcher, and little is known about your caste, but they say that your secondary gender is wiped out by the trails, and that all Witcher’s are Alphas.” His voice was honey, warm, and amused. 

“It’s bullshit, like everything else.” Geralt said his voice reverberating with a purr. “Only one thing is sure, we are all male. We carry some characteristics from all the secondary genders, but our own secondary gender does not get wiped out, just muted.” 

“Muted.” He purred and drew in Geralt’s scent. “You are aware of your own physiology yes? Why did you come here if you knew you were close to having a heat?”

Geralt drew up and growled, and Emhyr wisely took a few steps back. 

“I can control it,” Geralt growled, frustration building as he looked his fill. “I haven’t had one…”

He shuddered, and whined, as the pain inside of him just about drove him foreword. 

“I haven’t had one for years,” Geralt licked his lips. “Programed it, tempered my response.”

“So, you chose to have it now?” Emhyr looked concerned, and so completely un-flapped that Geralt felt jealous. 

“Of course not.” Geralt bit out, beginning to pace, but not letting his eyes leave Emhyr. “I was taken care of, bathed, I am in a fortress of sorts. And I smelled Alpha, but not the usual scent of one which carries anger and frustration, but just Alpha… I fell asleep with the scent, and I felt…”

Geralt paused his movements, as pain made him whimper. 

“You felt?” Emhyr took a step forward, and Geralt stiffened. 

“I felt _safe_.” The admission cost him more than he had bargained for. He remembered Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert taking care of him, while he lost himself to the feeling of the heat. He hadn’t had that safety in years. 

“You feel safe with me?” Emhyr looked at him, and the mask of the man had finally dropped, his cheeks reddening, and his hard cock bobbing. 

“Your scent… It hasn’t changed.” Geralt looked to him willing him to understand. “You are a gentle Alpha, but a tyrant as a man. It’s why I agreed to help you break the curse that hounded you. You were not like most Alphas, I have met. I helped you because you were kind, and you didn’t take advantage of Pavetta, contrary to what people think now. When I met you after I found Ciri, your scent had changed, soured. You had been manipulated, and I was of the opinion that it was your fault. When I met you again back when you demanded for me to find Ciri, the only reason I agreed was because your scent had returned.”

“But why now? Why not slink off and head to the nearest heat house to see to yourself? Surely…”

“You smell… you smell right.” Geralt admitted, ducking his head. “If I went to a heat house, I would be kicked out the second I was knotted.”

“Why is that?” Emhyr asked, his voice awash with concern. 

Geralt sighed, and decided it was better to show him. He stripped off his pants, and shuddered as the cool air washed around his heated and dripping bottom. His cock stood out, long, thick, and proud, however…

“They think you are a false Omega.” Emhyr gasped, approaching and causing Geralt to flinch.

“I have a knot, and I can knot other Omegas.” Geralt stroked his member a little, and a pulse of fresh slick began to drip down his thighs. “More than once I have caused an Alpha to go into rut, even the most experienced, and several times I had a fight on my hands because the moment my knot appears, they see me not as an unusual Omega, but as competition.”

“And you trust me with this?” Emhyr looked at Geralt openly, with a slight bit of wonder. 

“You proved yourself.” Geralt growled low. 

“As a person?”

“As an Alpha.” Geralt stood up straight, and took a step towards him, taking in his scent once again. “You are exactly the pinnacle of what an Alpha should be, tempered, wise, caring. You knew when to step off, you knew when it was safer for Ciri to be elsewhere. You knew, and you didn’t come after me in a territorial rage after I had lied to you, which anyone would have understood. You put your family first, and a lot of Alphas don’t do that. A lot of them listen to the tripe that is in those books and feel as if they have been given permission to twist themselves around those feared responses. But you?”

Geralt had reached him again, and had buried his nose in Emhyr’s neck. Before looking back up to the man. 

“You are _safe_.”

He kissed Emhyr then, and Emhyr stiffened for a moment, before his Pheromones washed out of him, and he pressed into Geralt. When his mouth opened, Geralt licked into it, and then he couldn’t hold himself back any more. He opened to Emhyr, and Emhyr pressed forward. The kiss was everything he could want it to be. Passion burned there, fire. He smelled and tasted of the summer sun, of wheat fields after a rain. He tasted of life, more then Geralt had ever experienced. He tasted of life, and there was something else, deeper, much more satisfying. 

Emhyr growled low, and grabbed Geralt by the jaw separating them. 

“Tell me how you want this.” Emhyr growled, the Alpha part of his voice on the periphery. 

“I am an Omega.” Geralt whined, and then Gasped when he felt Emhyr’s hand trail onto the swell of his ass. “All the same instincts.”

“You are unique.” Emhyr pushed himself forward, and buried his nose in Geralt’s neck. “The only reason I am reacting and strongly as I am, is because unlike the others, I can smell you, in your full entirety. You want me, you want this. No Omega besides Pavetta has ever not feared me. You do not, and it’s intoxicating. Tell me your limits.” 

“None.” Geralt keened as Emhyr began to suck bruises on his neck right below the special junction where his scent glands lay. “I want to be tied, by someone who isn’t afraid of me. I want to feel you loosing yourself, I want to feel your spend filling me till I nearly burst. My instincts are the same as any Omega…”

Emhyr pulled back, the whiskey brown of his eyes nearly enveloped by the pupil. 

“May I enter your nest, Omega?”

Geralt growled and pulled him backwards. When Geralt reached the nest, he fell into it, and took Emhyr with him. There was a flail of arms, and a hard body landing against his chest, and then Emhyr growled, and Geralt made a washed-out needy noise and arched his back. The smell of Emhyr flooded over him, and it was a comfort that was only surpassed by the man himself. He kissed Geralt again, and fisted his cock, stroking the thick appendage. 

“Please… It hurts.” Geralt’s body felt like it was on fire. His limbs wouldn’t obey his commands, and he weakly scrambled against Emhyr as he sat upright. 

“Turn over.” Emhyr grunted, helping Geralt to get him onto his hands and knees. Nearly instantly Geralt collapsed, panting, his back arched. He heard Emhyr groan, and looked back to the man, who was looking at him. 

“You are perfect.” He breathed; the words not meant to be heard. “To be given this, after all these years, feels like a sin.”

Geralt groaned, and then shuddered with a strong hand cupped his buttocks, and spread it apart. Emhyr leaned forward, and the first stripe of his tongue on his prenium burned through Geralt, and caused him to buck. Emhyr was not deterred in the least, and he grabbed Geralt’s hips and began to taste him in earnest. Geralt groaned as Emhyr’s tongue traveled around his hole, and he kissed licked and tasted the viscous fluid that was flowing from him like a fount. The smell of Alpha swam around him, as Emhyr’s scent began to shift, and turn. The summer turned into an inferno, and Geralt cried out as his tongue breached him and teased the sensitive nerves around his opening. 

“You really want this!” Emhyr’s voice carried as he pulled away, breathing heavily. “you smell… you smell like the mountains, fresh with wildflowers, you smell of a glacier in springtime, with the mollyarrow lining it’s flanks. You smell of want, true want…”

“Please!” Geralt arched, Emhyr’s words making his cock throb. “If you don’t get your cock into me, I am going to burn up!” 

Emhyr pulled away, and huffed, and Geralt looked behind him. His hair was in disarray, and his expression was one of concentration. He had his dick in his hand, and he brushed it against Geralt’s backside, thrusting it between his cheeks experimentally. He then growled, and positioned it properly. 

The first push in made Geralt’s weak muscles come alive, and he arched and cried out. The sliding movement of the cock slowly entering him, made his mouth water, and his skin tingle with heat. 

“Gods, so slick.” Emhyr grunted, as Geralt pushed back against him. He was sizeable, even for an Alpha, and he had only ever had something comparable from his brothers. His body was ablaze as Emhyr withdrew a little, slicking his cock, and pushed in further. 

“Fuck!” Geralt called out, panting. “How much more of you is there?”

“Patience, witcher.” Emhyr purred, pulling his hair and making Geralt whimper. “Better to ease in the first time, so the rest of the time isn’t a painful undertaking.”

Geralt huffed as his hair was released, and he keened as Emhyr began to thrust shallowly, pulling back a little, then seating himself a little further inside. Geralt groaned low in his throat once Emhyr’s hips rested against his back side. He could feel Emhyr holding himself back, his muscles shaking with the effort. Geralt could feel every long inch of him, filling him, making the ache inside him lessen. 

“I am sorry…” Emhyr said, grabbing Geralt’s hips. “I am losing a battle, and I will not be able to hold myself back any further.” 

“Just… Just get on with….Ahhhh!” The sudden withdraw and snap of Emhyr’s hips against him made Geralt cry out. Emhyr snarled.

His tightly held control broke. 

The sudden pistoning of Emhyr’s hips, made everything fall away, Geralt scrambled, digging his hands into the furs to keep himself from sliding away. He keened, and shuddered, the sensation of being properly fucked washing over him. His own cock bobbed under his stomach, aching, and leaking as Emhyr’s hands tightened around his hips hard enough that it would bruise. 

“Yes, that’s it,” Emhyr grunted, his voice a haze of lust and want. “Take everything I have…”

There was a small shift, and a hand found the back of his neck and squeezed. Emhyr’s cock began to move against Geralt’s prostate, and the last of the pain within him turned into a deep pleasure that seemed to come from the very center of his being. He let go of the last shred of his dignity at the feel of Emhyr’s hand on his neck. 

“Breed me…” It had slipped out, and Geralt came back to himself only for a moment. Emhyr paused, and leaned down over his back. 

“You raised my daughter… I already have.” 

Those simple words washed over Geralt, and the Omega side of him thrilled at them. The hallow feeling of never being able to do what he was made to do, was quashed, and filled with the knowledge that Emhyr knew him, knew what he did, and would trust him to carry for him. Those simple words made Geralt move into Emhyr’s hips, and chase his own pleasure. The knowledge that he had, that he had caught, but not traditionally, filled his mind to the brim with a warm piece of satisfaction he never thought he would be able to find. His body was ready, his cock was leaking freely, and the feeling of Emhyr against him was driving him into a frenzy. 

“Ah… you are so…” Emhyr’s words were cut off when his hips shuddered, and he pulled back. He thrust forward, with a shout, and Geralt felt the swell of his knot hit his rim. His own body was ready for it, and he bore down, and the knot slid home, and nearly instantly began to expand. 

“Fuck… fuck… FUCK!” Geralt screamed, then, as the knot swelled up, and his body instinctively bore down. His own knot swelled as orgasm began to wash through him, and Emhyr lurched forwards, biting into his shoulder. The feeling of Emhyr’s seed being flooded into Geralt, made his whole-body tense and go ridged with pleasure. Wave after wave of muscle contractions flooded him, and he was whimpering weakly by the time his orgasm began to middle, leaving him boneless, filled to the brim, and knotted for the first time in ages. He felt himself being lifted, and was startled, but Emhyr knew what he was doing. He seated Geralt on his lap, allowing himself to groan into the Witcher’s shoulder as his own orgasm continued, edged on by the constant pulse of Geralt’s muscles. Geralt leaned back against him, still overly warm, but much clearer headed now that he had been knotted. It felt so good. And when he felt Emhyr nosing against his neck, he sighed contentedly. 

“I do not expect we will be able to move for some time.” Emhyr purred softly, hesitating before wrapping his arms around Geralt and letting his head rest on Geralt’s shoulder. The feeling of arms around him made the purring Geralt had been doing earlier return full force. He relaxed, the smell of Emhyr’s calming Alpha Pheromones making him drift in a net of safety he had only ever felt at Kaer Morhen. The pleasure of orgasm would continue now, till Emhyr’s body stopped pumping him full of sperm. 

Geralt’s own knot had swollen and the flow of sperm from his slit cascaded down his shaft, and had made its way to Emhyr’s ankle, where it was pooling and dripping off into the furs. Emhyr groaned occasionally, and shifted his hips, and Geralt continued to purr, unconsciously kneading his fingers through the hair on Emhyr’s thighs. 

“You smell divine.” Emhyr growled against Geralt’s shoulder, his cock pulsing inside Geralt as he spoke. “Even Pavetta, as intoxicating as she was, did not come close to how you smell, how you taste.”

Geralt preened at that, but he could hear the sadness in Emhyr’s voice as he spoke. 

“I shared my brothers often,” Geralt spoke fondly. “Eskel smelled of horses and hard work. Lambert, the prick, smelled of sorrow and Applewood. Yennefer smelled of Lilac and gooseberries, which you well know. And Dandelion smelled like his moniker, bright, yellow and warm.”

“I had thought you were mated to Yennefer.” Emhyr shifted, and another pulse of fluid filled Geralt. 

“I made a stupid wish, to have an Alpha who would not shun me.” Geralt sighed, he had never spoken about this to anyone besides his hanse back in the day. “She knew magic had bound us together, and though she liked me, loved me to an extent, I had made the wish against her will. For years I yearned for her teeth against my neck, and for years she would push me away, leaving me hallow, unfulfilled. When I regained my memories, I realized that Triss had been lying to me, and I sought Yennefer out. When I found her again, she came to me smelling of you. She came to me smelling of you, and then insisted she found a djinn, and made a wish to remove the magical link between us, she insisted on doing this in the middle of our search for Ciri.” 

Emhyr nuzzled into his shoulder, and Geralt patted his thigh. 

“When the wish broke, her Alpha instincts took over, and she looked at me like any common Alpha would an Omega, and she insisted that she still felt the same.” Geralt winced, the memories still burning him. “But for me? All those years of being denied, of loving her, of wanting nothing more than to be hers, and having it tossed in my face took its toll. I didn’t love her, and her scent soured for me, and pushed me away from her.”

Emhyr nuzzled him softly. 

“I am sorry, if you do not wish to speak of this, there is no need too.” He said softly. 

“Life is hard for us Witcher’s. For me, more so than most, because the mutations I have not only dull my scent to the point where no one knows what I am, but it took my ability to actually decipher and understand emotions. It took me meeting Dandelion to understand what love was, and that I loved my brothers deeply. He put a name to feelings I couldn’t describe, and he gave me the first glimpse of the fact that my humanity hadn’t been completely stolen away from me. So, when I met Yennefer, and saw how powerful she was, her voice, her power, and her Alphaness, I was smitten at first glance. No one explained to us that it takes more than just pheromones to know true love.”

“You see, like the real world, the witchers of the keep mirrored it.” Geralt sighed. “Lambert, and Eskel both are Betas, even though they have been mutated, and carry with them the Alpha’s knot. Their scent is pleasant, but they lack the true pheromones of an Alpha. Our mutations gave us the same drives as an Alpha, but the protection instincts of an Omega. We would wander the continent in territories which we considered our own, defending the people within them, even if they hated us for doing so. It was a drive, and so too was the drive to return to the keep every year, where we could safely go into heat, or into rut. We didn’t know anything about humanity outside of our need to protect it. And we became bitter quickly, when we realized how alien we truly were.”

“I did not know this.” Emhyr sighed. 

“Not many do.” Geralt felt himself smiling. “We do not give our trust lightly.”

“And yet you have trusted me.” Emhyr shifted a little and rested his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. 

Geralt sighed, and felt emotions swelling in his chest, he would rather push down, but the heat was making it impossible, and the fact that they had only just begun their dance meant that it was far from over. 

“Tell me, what do you look for in a mate?” Geralt asked, leaning his head softly against Emhyr’s. 

“A complicated question.” Emhyr said, softly. “When I met Pavetta, I didn’t realize she was a princess, and my needs were simple. A human who understood I was cursed, and spent most of my time as a were-hedgehog. She was fascinated by me, and she read me poetry. I was brought to my knees by simple kindness, and soft words. She had a hardened strength in her that I admired greatly, and it was only happenstance that placed a crown upon her head.”

“I sense a, but, there.” 

“Indeed, after the curse was broken, her instinct to protect Ciri trumped all else.” Emhyr sighed. “I learned that she was not the happy person I had fallen in love with, but a calculating and cold Omega, like her mother. She was demanding, exacting. And I thought that’s what I wanted. And that’s how I fell. I was tempted, I was manipulated because what I had, was not what my instincts had really wanted. I had fallen in line with a Beta’s way of thinking, which for an Alpha is nearly unheard of. I ignored my physiology, even when her scent lost its sweetness to me. She was my mate after all, and she had loved me when I was cursed, so I owed it to her to be the Alpha she wanted me to be. But the temptation of finding something better, of reclaiming my throne and indeed the power that had been stripped from me, became intoxicating. When I was at my weakest, when I yearned for more, is the exact moment Vilgefortz found me.”

Geralt nodded, and sighed, feeling Emhyr’s body begin to relax, and the overfull presence within him pulse weakly and begin to slowly un-swell. 

“You know why he wanted her right?” Geralt asked, and Emhyr nodded again. 

“He was a Beta, born in the middle, and he wanted more.” Emhyr said softly. “He wanted a womb of his own, so that he could produce and have young.”

“After his influence fell away from me, after I had let Ciri go, I began to examine what I wanted.” Emhyr hissed. “But it was difficult. I was navigating a world that had been upended by the usurper, a man who wanted to take on the ideals of the north, and separate out Omegas to be breading stock, and wanted to corral Alphas, because they were brainless. In a span of fifteen years, he undid centuries of work and progress that my father, and his father had worked to maintain and improve. My surrogate was a Beta, and people were hoping I would consummate with her, but my instincts to protect her as a father far outweighed anything else, so she remains a lady of the household, my adopted daughter, and nothing more.”

“I began to focus on myself, and what I wanted.” Emhyr chuckled, “And it was not an affair that went easily, or well. I had many courtesans who offered their bodies to me. And from them, I learned several things. One, and a major factor, I did not care for females. Because of Pavetta, I demanded that any potential mates be quick of mind and sharp of tongue, which I enjoyed. But I learned that many with those characteristics are quicker with a sharp dagger. Then I thought I wanted someone who would submit to me, fully, and completely, allowing me to lord over them. But any meek Omega’s or Betas that were brought to me, stank of fear, and my instinct to claim them never coalesced.”

“I thought maybe I was touched in the head, so I took on a courtesan which you know well, Cantrinella.” Geralt smiled at that, Emhyr’s voice rumbling with mirth. “And it was through her that I learned that I did indeed want a strong hand, and a sharp wit. She thought it novel to knot a fellow Alpha, and I obliged her, because I too enjoyed the activity.”

“You did?” Geralt sat up and looked back to Emhyr in surprise. 

“Indeed.” Emhyr chuckled, and the sound made Geralt want to melt. “It was through her that I discovered that what I wanted, did not exist. A strong independent Omega, who could speak their mind, protect my daughter, who was male, fierce, and fiery. I wanted strength, but I also wanted them to submit to me, to trust me. I liked exotic looks, strange hair colors, skin colors that ranged beyond the olive that blankets all of Nilfgaard. I wanted someone who was tolerating of my foul moods, who understood that ruling ment that I wouldn’t be around all the time. But most of all, what I wanted above all else, was someone who trusted me implicitly. Someone who was strong in their own right, but trusted me to take care of them. Someone who felt safe around me, even as I wielded the sword which stuck down nations. Someone who could see me as a man, and not as a political tool.”

Geralt’s heartrate began to pick up, and his chest began to ache. 

“She told me I was a fool, and that people like that didn’t exist, but she also knew full well, that I was not describing some simple want, that I was describing a person who I could never hope to have.” Emhyr chuckled, and it was bitter. “She told me that if I knew such a person I may as well throw myself at their feet and confess, for that was like finding a heart of a mountain being sold at a run-down market in the swamps of Velen.”

Geralt’s mouth was dry, and his relaxed state, had gone from him completely. He was being truthful and he had just described Geralt. His chest ached, and the need to bury his nose in Emhyr’s neck flooded him, but knotted, and unable to move, he couldn’t. Emhyr must have felt his distress, for he ran a soothing hand on his chest.

“What of you witcher? What do you fancy in a mate?”

Emhyr had not lied when he spoke of his ideals, so Geralt spent a moment, happy to shuffle away from Emhyr’s words, to focus on his own wants. He thought about it long and hard, and Emhyr waited patiently for the answer. Geralt spun it around in his head, and it always centered down to one thing. The one thing he has always craved, but never truly gotten. 

“For once in my life, I want to feel safe.” Geralt said lowly, feeling the knot within him begin to slip a little, his own muscles beginning to relax. “I need an Alpha, a strong Alpha, who is tempered, understanding that I will not bend to them, unless I wish it. That I need to travel, that I need to hunt. I need a safe haven to return to, one who understands that my need for silence is not a slight, but a way for me to recover from the world I experience on a daily basis. I need an Alpha who understands what a witcher is, who knows our faults, and is understanding that it takes me a while to work through my emotions. One who understands that when I lash out, I am overwrought, and instead of pushing me away, speaks quietly, softly, and will hold me.”

“I need someone who will hold me, cherish me, and treat me like an Omega sometimes, even though I look, nor act anything like one.” Geralt winced at how foolish he was sounding. “I need an Alpha who understands that I have a grown child, and I am here for her first and foremost, and nothing will come between me and her. I need an Alpha who understands my physical needs, and will not harry me, nor refuse me my ability to take others as needed, for it is a need, not a want. And most of all, I need an Alpha who will not use my emotions against me. Who will not tease, who will be direct. An Alpha who will not manipulate me, nor my feelings, which contrary to common belief, are intense, and often scary for me. An Alpha who does not parade me around like a prized horse, to be poked, prodded and forced to perform.”

“A sad state we live in where you cannot have those simple things.” Emhyr sighed, and then Grunted. “It is time Geralt, you may move now, and I will go get you some water.”

Geralt lifted off of Emhyr, and shuddered as his knot popped free. He instantly collapsed forward, and felt the fresh push with every beat of his heart of the thick cum Emhyr had deposited inside of him. He turned his head, and watched as Emhyr dampened a rag, and filled a glass full of water. The feel of the cum leaking out of him, and down his balls makes him squirm, his cock still hard and heavy, even though the knot has been down for a while without anything to grip it. The scent of Emhyr as he approaches, is still as delectable as ever, and Geralt can see that he is also gearing up for the next round. What he doesn’t expect is the soft damp rag at his sensitive entrance, cleaning him. 

“Push a little.” Emhyr says, and Geralt’s whole body heats up at the words. He does as order, and he feels the wave come out of him, caught within the rag which will likely be discarded. He chances a glance to Emhyr, and Emhyr looks… proud? He mops up the mess, and then helps Geralt sit up, and makes him drink the water. 

Self-consciousness washes over Geralt for a moment as he watches the Emperor clean himself up, and go to move things closer to the nest Geralt made. The heat is a maddening thing, and his brain is fuzzy, and he is vulnerable. His tight control is often all he has, the only thing that keeps him alive and fighting. It has been lost, his mutations refusing to cooperate now that the heat is racketing up it’s intensity. On top of that he is exhausted. He had traveled here alongside the men that had come to fetch him, with little rest on the road. He hadn’t been prepared for this heat. The only thing he managed to do right was the large meal he ate, which would have to suffice till this was over and his apatite returned.

It’s only then that he notices the feint scars crossing Emhyr’s body. They catch the firelight, and are hidden by thick waves of hair. He looks at the man, as he fusses, and eats something, fueling himself for what is to come. He is shorter than Geralt, but not by much. His body is filled with muscles, that are hidden under a layer of adipose, that softened him, marked him as well taken care of. He had felt Emhyr’s fingers, which were the fingers of a fighter. The calluses marked his knowledge of sword play, and his need to employ it often. He had scars around his wrists from where he had been held in shackles, and scars across his back made by whips. There were marks where knifes had attempted to find a kill along his flank and thighs. One of which seemed fairly recent, and was pink with healing. Geralt’s hand traveled to the bandage on his shoulder as he looked on, and Emhyr’s brows furrowed. 

“Is it bothering you?” He asked, and the concern made Geralt thrill, his Omega side purring at the idea of being cared for. 

“No, just thinking.” Geralt admitted, his voice far softer than he intended it to be. The need was building again, and he felt himself releasing slick below himself. Alongside the need, was the keening of his Omega instincts, which were screaming at him that Emhyr was perfect. He shook his head, and tried to get the thought out, but it was lodged there. He moved to distract himself. 

“Why did you declare war on the north?” The question must have surprised Emhyr, who had taken a large handful of nuts and was picking at them. 

“The answer to that is simple.” Emhyr stated, looking levelly at Geralt. “The north was a cesspit, filled with inbred rulers, who raped their people, simply because they could. My focus first was on Meve, however, she proved herself to be a wise ruler, and did not temper herself for anyone. Her treatment of the elves and non-humans notwithstanding, she, among all the northern rulers, was actually able to rule, and did so with the knowledge of her people, and their safety in mind, even though it was poorly executed.”

Emhyr popped some of the candied nuts into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, before swallowing. 

“I wondered why she held such hatred for non-humans, and I realized thanks to a General of mine who didn’t obey orders, that in order to keep her hold on her countries, and have a seat at the table in the north, she had to deal with the prejudices of the other rulers.” Emhyr spoke, looking to the windows as he did. “She did what she had to, to keep her power. But that ment I had to look at the others, and what I saw there was wanting. I thought to myself I should start with Temeria, however Foltest was a wise enough ruler to see me coming, and offered a political truce, so that I could work against the others. He warned me that if I attacked the southern boarders directly, without removing the support system within the north, I would lose.”

Geralt had thought it odd that Foltest had allowed Nilfgaardian’s around him frequently, but he knew he didn’t need to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Now, understanding what Emhyr said, Geralt could see the whole picture. 

“So, I started my war in the place people would least expect it, Aedirn.” Emhyr sighed. “I knew once he was deposed, the north would turn their eyes from me, and make for a land grab. The war, therefore, was already won with that single kill. I placed Letho with Foltest, and gave him orders to kill him, but in a manner that was beguiling and unseen. When king Demavend was slain, Henselt rushed in, and so too did Radovid. The distraction worked, and I took over Temeria with little to no fanfare, the battles we fought were disorganized, and futile. We offered amnesty to those who surrendered. It was easy.”

“By the time Radovid and Henselt realized what I had done, they had already spread their forces thin,” Emhyr smiled and looked to Geralt. “So, like dogs, they turned to each other’s throats. All I had to do was ensure that the one army in the north who could stand against me truly, was stretched thin, over to many fronts. I trusted that Radovid’s madness would win out, and his greed would be absolute, and I was right. When Henselt was killed, not by a political move, but by his own stupidity, Radovid truly showed himself, and sent most of his army to quell the populaces of Aedern and Kaedwen. His harshness, did not endear himself to the populace in either place, and now that he held all of the remaining north, he fell into madness, brandishing his blade against his own peoples. He feared magic, so all that was needed was a little nudge, and he was demanding the burning of all mages in his lands.”

Geralt frowned softly. “You knew he would kill them.”

“He killed two birds with one stone.” Emhyr said with a frown. “He culled mages, which had long thought themselves powerful enough to manipulate the rulers of the land, and he made his populace fear him. All I had to do, was send in a few small powers, to tempt Dijkstra with the idea of ruling, and send Roach, with the letters informing him that I would re-establish Temeria as a ruling state within the empire, and the trap was sprung. Dijkstra took the bait, and you, you wound up helping Roche, which was unexpected, but brilliant. In a single week Radovid was dead, Dijkstra was dead, and the whole of the north was rudderless. I merely had to march my armies in, promise food and work, and the populace shifted to my side with little issue.” 

“You didn’t win favor by killing members of said populace when they refused to enlist.” Geralt mumbled. 

“No, instead, I proved to them that if they obeyed and did as they were told, their lives would be fruitful.” Emhyr looked at Geralt keenly. “And if they disobeyed, I would not tolerate it. I let them keep everything that they were, as I have with all the territories I have taken. I have no want to homogenize the people, but rather have many voices who can guide the fate of the Empire long after I am dead. I want culture, I want uniqueness. But I also know full well the ideals that the north held, and still holds. This world will not be in balance until people understand that Being a Beta isn’t being a doormat, being an Alpha doesn’t mean that you are at the whim of aggression that has been indoctrinated into you, and being an Omega doesn’t mean that you must bend over and breed and that’s all you are good for. Humans are humans, regardless of their biological function.”

“When I summoned you here, it was to set the records straight on Anna Henrietta, and to question you about… our… daughter.” The use of the word “our”, made Geralt swoon a little, but he had to focus on what Emhyr was saying. “Before you arrived, you were heralded, and I had to deal with several people, who view you as an absolute threat. They forget that Nilfgaard is not the north that once was, and that I myself am an Alpha, they said, with absolute certainty that it would lead to my death, and several people moved to intercept you. I had to deal with that before I could deal with you, simply because you were perceived to be an Alpha, and a threat.”

By the end of his sentence Emhyr was panting, and his eyes had blown. 

“Little heated there.” Geralt squirms as Emhyr growls low. He stalked forward, and Geralt suddenly remembered what was happening to his body. Emhyr growls low, and Geralt can hear the reverberation of Alpha in his voice. 

“I will not be out maneuvered by a pack of fearful idiots.” Emhyr sneered, crawling into the nest. “I will not tolerate the one man, who made my daughters return to me possible, to be ostracized and targeted.”

He crowded into Geralt’s space, and Geralt’s nose flared with the scent of Emhyr’s fast approaching rut. He pushed Geralt over, and Geralt whimpered as Emhyr grabbed his arms, and buried his face in his neck. The bite that comes right below the scent gland sends Geralt into a full body spasm, and his cock begins to leak just as fiercely as the rest of him. Emhyr’s sharp canines nearly pierce him, and Geralt wants it more than anything else. 

“You are mine.” Geralt made a wanton noise as his Omega instincts latch onto that voice. The rich beautiful voice which had just claimed him. He had never been claimed before, Yennefer had teased at it, but never in his life had he heard something that affected him so much. In an instant he wanted nothing more than to be claimed. The growl and the push into his ready and wet hole, was not a surprise. Emhyr licked the place that he worried, and Geralt brought his hands up to Emhyr’s hips, Gyrating his own. 

He couldn’t form words as Emhyr’s eyes closed and he began to thrust into Geralt with long, even, sure strokes. Geralt’s heat took that moment to come back in full force, and he whined, licking at Emhyr’s chin hoping to catch the sweat that was beginning to form. He wanted to taste him, he wanted to be torn in two. His whole body began to light up when Emhyr pulled back and lifted his hips, his Alpha strength fully engaged. Claws dug into his hips as Emhyr lost himself, and Geralt’s vision swam as he watched Emhyr work in a haze of pure maddening pleasure. The scent surrounded him, filled him, and fulfilled him to the point where all he could think about was being claimed. Being bred. 

“Please… Please please please!” He was begging, his head thrashing and his back arching as Emhyr pounded into him. “I want you... please…”

“Say it.” Emhyr snarled, showing his teeth, his eyes open and wild. “Let me hear my name on that wicked tongue.” 

“Emhyr….” It came out breathless… elongated. Emhyr roared and Geralt made a strangled noise of pleasure as his body was used, the exquisite pleasure drowning him, making him want to choke on everything Emhyr was. “Claim me… I am yours.” 

The look of surprise that crossed Emhyr’s face was a testament to how Geralt’s words affected him. Heat addled or not, Emhyr’s scent carried with it something deep, powerful, and un-ignorable. It spoke to Geralt in words of an unknown language that he knew by wrote and verse. Something tucked away inside him knew what lay ahead, knew what the scent ment. It knew it, and it hungered for it. Emhyr was His.

There was hesitation, and Emhyr bared his teeth and stilled, running his hand along Geralt’s bearded jaw. Geralt clenched against him. 

“Claim me now.” Geralt suddenly demanded, fear coursing through him. His body was screaming, desperate, the fire in his belly had turned into an inferno and he gasped and arched his neck. Emhyr whined and began to piston his hips again, and Geralt could feel the swell of the knot beginning. His own body clenched; his neck still exposed. He was shaking with it. Shaking with the knowledge that revealed itself. He felt himself being lifted, and he screamed. He feared… he feared…

His whole world washed away in white as the teeth found their mark, and the knot slipped in, and swelled. Pain seared through him, and then became pleasure as he came. The teeth were locked in, and he could feel Emhyr’s breath on his neck. He sobbed. 

Geralt of Rivia never sobbed. 

The tears began to pour down his cheeks as his muscles clenched, locking him to Emhyr. The sob turned into a scream as Emhyr’s bite tightened. His body tensed, but he grabbed onto Emhyr’s head, keeping it where it was, as the swirl of pleasure broke the dam, and Orgasm stabbed into him. Years of pain, years of yearning. Years of thinking that he wasn’t good enough, that he was broken, sullied, and unfit, washed away as he came, the knot on his cock pulsing. A hand wrapped around it, the other splayed across his back. It squeezed, and Geralt sobbed again, overwrought by the feelings which came at him like a knife in the dark. The hand, barely enough to fit around him began to massage him, and the pleasure that came from being filled, and feeling as if he were knotting something, made him loose his hold on reality. 

It made him loose his hold, but when he felt Emhyr Jerk his head away, another instinct took over. Emhyr’s mouth was bloody, and he craned his head up, his eyes rolling. Geralt lurched forwards and let his fangs pierce Emhyr’s skin. 

The taste of him washed over his tongue and Emhyr grabbed Geralt’s neck with clawed fingers, forcing Geralt against him. He could read the pain in it, read the silent suffering Emhyr had undertaken for years, thinking himself broken, hiding the fact that he felt less of an Alpha for being unable to find a mate. He felt the longing there, the hope. But the most stunning thing of all, was the complete lack of rejection. Geralt had bit Yennefer a number of times, but Yennefer had never bit him. Each time he would, she would throw him off of her, and growl and cuss, and Geralt sometimes would feel the need to run. She rarely cased after him. And Geralt spent weeks afterwards in abject misery. But Emhyr? he could smell it, taste it and feel it. Emhyr wanted him to be his.

When Geralt let go and worried the bloodied skin with his tongue, Emhyr collapsed forward, his head on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt breathed in deeply and felt something fall onto him.

Tears.

Emhyr was crying. 

His mate was crying. 

Geralt wrapped his arms around Emhyr their bodies already tied, and he held him, and rocked against him softly as Emhyr’s arms clung to him. Geralt too felt tears flowing, and once he finally was able to smell anything but their lovemaking, the scent was happy. Geralt just held him until the silent shaking began to ebb, and Emhyr tentatively began to lick at Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt’s body began to relax as Emhyr began to groom him. And he nuzzled into Emhyr, his orgasm still going strong as Emhyr’s cock flooded him once more. The knotting lasted half the time as the previous, mostly due to the fact that both of them had relaxed, and Emhyr had already spilled once before. They didn’t speak, and Geralt was nearly asleep at the soft licks and nuzzles Emhyr was giving him. When Emhyr pulled away and stroked Geralt’s cheek, Geralt pulled back in alarm.

Emhyr’s face had lost its imperial mask. His hair was disheveled, and sweeping down over his cheeks, he had a five o’clock shadow filled, surprisingly filled with gray hair. He was looking at Geralt, studying him. And Geralt, realizing that there wasn’t a problem smiled. Emhyr’s face lit up, and the warm smile he gave Geralt made his eyes widen. 

“I haven’t seen you smile like that since Pavetta…” Geralt said tilting his head, as Emhyr glanced away embarrassed. 

“I can say much the same for you.” Emhyr stated, chancing a look back to Geralt. “I don’t think you have ever smiled so warmly in my presence.”

Geralt laughed a little and rubbed his face against Emhyr’s jaw. 

“I guess neither of us has had much to smile about.” He said softly. 

“Geralt?” Emhyr turned back to him, raising his hands and hesitating. Geralt linked his hand’s with Emhyr’s and Emhyr sighed, relaxing. “I… am sorry.”

“For?” Geralt asked. 

“I marked you, I tried not to…. But…”

“I wanted you too.” Geralt looked at him evenly, noting the scent of stress that was building. “Omegas are not just wanton fools; you should know this. If I didn’t want you to mark me, I would have fought you off.”

Emhyr looked at him, hope in his eyes once more. Geralt cupped his jaw and brought their foreheads together. 

“We are strangers you and I.” Emhyr said softly. “And yet you trust me with this, why?” 

Many words came to mind, and Geralt had to quell some of them, which were demons of his past. 

“Because no one has ever given you trust.” Geralt spoke softly, sighing.

“Pavetta gave me trust.” Emhyr countered. 

“Pavetta was a teenaged girl.” Geralt said. “You know as well as I do that you were her rebellion against her Grandmother, who was trying to court all manner of fools to bring to heal. She mated with you, because you didn’t know her, she thought you a stranger to her world. You loved her because she was kind, but her motives were anything but, and because of that, because your bond was formed based not on mutual respect or compatibility, but rather desperation and deceit. That is why you felt the need to roam. That is why you were unhappy.”

“It hurts to hear it from another’s lips.” Emhyr said kneading Geralt’s back. “You knew though, from the beginning?” 

“Yes.” Geralt admitted. “Why do you think I was so frustrated. Why do you think I agreed to help you? I had hoped that the folly of her manipulations would be brought to light. Why do you think I reacted the way I did when you called the law of surprise? I wasn’t angry to get a child, but I knew that I would be taking it from a man who trusted far too easily. A man who had given himself to a girl in hopes that he would find peace within himself. I knew the moment that you made the promise, she would try to break it. So, I tried to steer clear to keep it from happening, to force destiny to actually say “fuck it” for once.”

“And yet destiny played us both for fools.” Emhyr sighed, stroking Geralt’s cheek. 

Geralt felt the heat begin to turn again, and he grunted in discomfort pulling away from Emhyr. The loss of his hand made him whimper, and Emhyr to pause. Emhyr sniffed the air, and nodded. 

“Destiny may have played us for fools,” Emhyr said getting up, and going to the table to fetch Geralt some much needed water. “But it is us who shall have the last laugh.”

Geralt tilted his head, his insides beginning to throb once again. He took the glass from Emhyr, and drank it quickly, and then Emhyr poured him another. 

“Why is that?” Geralt asked taking the second glass. 

“Do you honestly think, witcher, that Destiny has wanted us together?” Emhyr asked banefully, taking a sip of his own glass. “No, Destiny has been parading you in front of me as the one thing I wanted, but the one thing I could never have. I had thought you were an Alpha the whole time. And knowing what I know of your past, I didn’t think you had proclivities towards males. No one told me otherwise, and your relationships with Triss and Yennefer, well, they are well known. Ballads are sung of them. I should have known that you were an Omega. Yennefer never said anything to the contrary, and it’s widely believed that Dandelion himself is an Omega, simply because of his own proclivities and gentle nature. Every time I saw you, I would become angry, irritated. Most of that was driven by the fact that my daughter viewed you as her father, but a good amount of it was me feeling sorry for myself. I have wanted you for a long time Geralt, and I placed the knife in your hands at Stygga because I wanted that new feeling that rushed in after Vilgefortz died to end.”

“You… what?” Geralt was confused. 

“I wanted you both dead,” Emhyr admitted. “Because I was a selfish fool. Yennefer, because of the bond you had with her, and you, because I wanted you. You took care of my daughter, trained her to fight and be a warrior and defend herself. When I left the castle, and the spell that Vilgefortz had cast on me finally lifted, I could smell the distress of Ciri. I was taking her away from you. It’s an Alpha’s duty to care for their young, and I… I couldn’t bear the thought of injuring her by your death.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Geralt felt somewhat panicked. 

“I am compelled to.” Emhyr shot his glass down, and wiped at his eyes. “We cannot have secrets amongst us to be discovered and twisted. Every time I demanded you come before me, Ciri may have been the reason, but deep down, selfishly, I wanted to see you again. I tried to tempt you, first with the contract, and I used Yennefer for that, then with pay for bringing me Ciri, then with the horse, which you ran off without.”

He laughed bitterly, and Geralt moved to stand. 

“When you appeared on my blasted boat, I thought even through everything else that you had come for a reason other than demanding the release of sorcerers.” Emhyr shook his head as Geralt approached him. “When I saw you the final time before today… I almost told you then. But you lied… and I was angry, foolishly so. You make me feel week, witcher.”

Geralt approached him and took Emhyr into his arms. Emhyr set down his glass, and nuzzled into Geralt. 

“I can’t say that I have wanted you.” Geralt nuzzled Emhyr softly. “My story isn’t a long romantic pining that would never see fruition. I have had enough of it. Do I think that what you did in the past was wrong? Absolutely. But your scent Emhyr, it’s perfect to me. I have never had anyone in my life who’s scent I understood more. I am a simple man, with simple needs. Right now, there is no need to drudge up the past. I am here now, and you are here now, and that is all that matters.”

Emhyr kissed him fiercely then, and Geralt felt the heat, building and building, until nothing mattered but the feeling of skin on skin. 

The second day after a night of rest, saw the full brunt of Geralt’s heat. He couldn’t think of anything other then being knotted, and sleeping. He woke Emhyr up actually, by forcefully impaling himself on Emhyr’s cock. When he wasn’t impaled and shuddering from being overloaded, he was up and exchanging the furs around. He would make walls with the used furs, leaving fresh ones at the base, the more he did this, the more the nest smelled like “Theirs”. In order to do this, he would have to chase Emhyr off, who had given in completely to his rut. Mererid attempted to come in once, but both Emhyr and Geralt reacted rather poorly to being interrupted. The only time they stopped really is when Emhyr had to relieve himself, and he usually attempted to do that only once Geralt had fallen into a heat induced slumber. 

Emhyr took care of Geralt, who was in abject misery most of the day. And Geralt soothed Emhyr, who was ready to jump out of the room and go pick fights with whoever he could come across. Geralt would have found it funny, had he been in his right mind, but he knew Emhyr was trying to show him he was a good Alpha, that he could protect Geralt when he was at his weakest.

When Geralt was knotted, Emhyr gave him cool water, and a cool rag or two to place across his burning skin. Geralt sorely wished more than once they were in Kaer Morhen, where he could go roll in the snow and clear his mind, but he wasn’t. He was in Vizima. 

On their last romp of the day, Geralt fell asleep with Emhyr knotted inside him, too exhausted to do anything else. Emhyr too fell asleep that way. 

Geralt awoke to Emhyr huffing against his neck and back. And screamed in pleasure as Emhyr’s thrusts brought him to completion. Half way through the day, Geralt felt like he was coming back to himself, but Emhyr was still in the full throws of rut. 

“How long do your ruts usually last?” Geralt huffed, as Emhyr Growled into his neck. 

“Usually a few days, though…” He bit Geralt and Geralt keened. “The way you smell… this has been…”

Emhyr lost his words as he roared his voice strained, and locked into Geralt. Geralt purred in pleasure as Emhyr licked him, lost to the feeling of orgasm. 

It was the fourth day when Emhyr had finally exhausted himself, though his rut was still going. Geralt hummed as he rode Emhyr, and Emhyr panted under him. He was going slow on purpose, drawing it out. Emhyr could do little against his strength. He enjoyed taking his pleasure from the man, torturing him with slow sways of his hips and second to none muscle control. 

“Never realized… how stunning you look.” Geralt groaned, his hips swaying, and his cock bobbing. “Your hair a disheveled mess, your beard three days in. You look unhinged, wanton. You smell like me. It’s delicious.”

“Then take what you want from me you foul beast.” Emhyr keened. “Take it, I am yours to use as you see fit.” 

Geralt did. He angled himself so that pressure was against his prostate, and it made the slick flow heavy and sweet from between where they were joined. He felt so content at that moment that he felt he could be stabbed through, and die a happy man. His pleasure was peaking nice and slow, and Emhyr, well, he was at the whims of Geralt. When he felt Emhyr’s hips start rolling he increased the pace, and he came, squeezing at Emhyr’s cock as he did. He quickly wrapped his hand around his own knot, and hissed at the pleasure as weak watery cum flowed languidly from the tip of his prick and onto Emhyr’s stomach. 

The sight must have done something for Emhyr, because he could feel the Emperor’s knot swelling inside him, and Emhyr whimpered, his hips stilling, as he began to fill Geralt once again. Geralt grinned then, and squeezed and massaged his muscles around the knot, causing Emhyr to cry out, and whine with the overstimulation he was feeling. 

“Now now,” Geralt tutted. “None of that….” 

He grinned as Emhyr looked up to him, his eyes hazy with the orgasm that was running through him. Geralt’s grin turned dark, and he swiped up some of the hazy looking cum that was leaking from the tip of his cock. 

“Be a good lad, open up.” He cooed pressing his cum slick fingers to Emhyr’s mouth. He was surprised when Emhyr opened up, and licked across Geralt’s fingers. When he drew them into his mouth and sucked, a Geralt groaned, tensing against Emhyr’s knot, and a wave of cum flowed from the tip of his cock and around Geralt’s fist. He grinned and kept feeding Emhyr his cum, and Emhyr sucked every last bit of it from Geralt’s fingers, and the knot this time lasted nearly as long as the first. By the end of it, Geralt was shuddering and his knot was down, but his cock had responded to the lavish licking and for the first time in several days, he wanted to use it.

He pulled off of Emhyr, who panted, and was drifting, and knew it was up to him now to care for his mate. The first thing he did was get Emhyr some water, and help him sit up. He groaned with the effort, but took the water, and looked better for it. 

“Thank you.” He breathed, as Geralt took the glass, and then went over to the table of food, and got him a plate of it. “I don’t know how much longer I can last.” 

“Eat first, regain your strength a little.” Geralt laughed a little, and the twinge of the last bits of his heat tickled him to make their presence known. When he sat down in the nest, long having given up cleaning himself, or Emhyr up, Emhyr snatched the plate away from him, and began to eat with feral glee. Geralt watched him, his own appetite hadn’t come back yet. He felt far weaker than he had when he had first arrived, but he was used to it by now.

He watched Emhyr eat, and how he crowded over his food, and frowned. 

“I am not going to take it from you.” He said simply, huffing, and going to get his own glass of water. As he poured it, Emhyr was looking down at the food with a foul expression on his face. 

“I often…. When I am hungry it is hard for me not to….” Emhyr struggled, and Geralt came back to the nest. 

“You were starved when you were cursed.” Geralt said softly, stroking Emhyr’s roughened cheek. Emhyr’s wince, as he began to eat much slower, confirmed it. “Sitting through state dinners must be agonizing then.” 

“You don’t know the half of it.” Emhyr grumbled around his food. “There are times when I am so hungry, I have to stop, step out, and let Mererid take my place so I can eat properly and then rejoin when it’s important.”

Geralt frowned at that. 

“Why didn’t you take him for a mate?” Geralt asked, watching as Emhyr ate his food, and trying to quell the heat building in his belly once again. 

“I have known him, since we were boys.” Emhyr smiled, and the smile was fond. “But he is a Doppler. He looks like a Beta, and smells like a Beta, because this is one of the forms that he stole. Mererid, the man before him, served the Usurper, not me. Mererid stole his form as a political maneuver, and he was executed in private with no one knowing.”

“Before that, when we were boys, He took on the visage of a slum boy from some place far off, so he wouldn’t be discovered.” Emhyr chuckled a little. “All the Var Emries had a Doppler companion. Just as rulers often have doubles, we have literal doubles. Raised from birth together, the Doppler’s form strong bonds that way. It’s imperative that the bond is in place, for if it was not, he would not have the knowledge to run the empire in my stead.”

His face paled, and he looked up to Geralt in concern. 

“You are not going to hunt him, are you?” The earnest fear in Emhyr’s voice soured his scent, and Geralt wrinkled his nose and laughed a little. 

“I hunt monsters.” Geralt said. “And Mererid, while monstrous when it comes to your comfort, is not a monster in the flesh. He is kind, stern, but he cares for you.”

Emhyr let off a breath and his shoulders sagged. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” Geralt prodded. Emhyr looked to him and sighed. 

“He has been my only recourse through my ruts.” Emhyr admitted. “And I love him. Truly. But he is a Doppler. They have male, female, a mix, and null, but they do not have Alpha, Beta, or Omega’s within their caste. They form mating bonds with one another by sharing their true bodies, and have soul bonds which humans cannot reciprocate. To be selfish and try would slowly kill him. We love each other in our own way, however, and I suppose this is one of the conversations we should have had before getting ourselves into this mess.”

Emhyr winced, and was watching Geralt. Geralt chuckled. It was a reaction that Emhyr hadn’t expected, and he smiled softly, hopefully. 

“It’s like that with my brothers.” Geralt admitted, feeling, for the first time, like he could be honest. “Though Lambert has found a Beta mage to be with, and Eskel… well… I haven’t heard from him in a bit. I won’t be able to hold myself back from them, because I love them. But they are both Betas, and my mutations…”

It was Geralt’s turn to look away embarrassed. 

“I need an Alpha; I have needed one for years.” He admitted. “I tried, but Dandelion wanted to fall in love and love everyone, and he wouldn’t mark me nor me him for fear of losing his reputation as a womanizer. I tried with Yen, and we all know how that went. Now with you, you have something that no one else has. You… are perfect.”

Emhyr scoffed at that, and Geralt turned to him fiercely. 

“it’s true.” He said. “I can’t explain it, but it is, I know it to my core.” 

He looked up then, looking to the ceiling tiles, as his heat began to truly burn once again. 

“We were taught to listen to our instincts,” Geralt said, remembering Vesemir instructing them. “Listening to our instincts is often a matter of life and death. You can smell, after all, if a griffon is mated. You can smell how old and wise a necrophage is. You can smell the difference between a true human and a succubus. You can feel magic in the air, even without the medallions. And what happened to us? There was magic in it.”

Emhyr was looking at him, a blush rising on his cheeks, as he set the empty plate to the floor. He hesitated, then he approached Geralt, and nuzzled against his back. 

“You don’t suppose someone cursed you?” Emhyr asked, and Geralt huffed a laugh, making Emhyr nuzzle tighter against him. 

“No.” 

“Then, you will think me a fool for stating this, but I do believe… we may be soulmates.” Emhyr said against his ear. He was right, Geralt thought him a fool. Geralt scoffed, and then something inside him thrilled. 

“Don’t believe in that.” Geralt mumbled gruffly. 

“You don’t have to believe in something for it to be truth.” He felt Emhyr smiling against his neck. “For now, you were looking at me earlier as if you had a plan. Tell it to me, my Omega.”

The way the word slithered off of Emhyr’s tongue made Geralt shudder. Then he turned around to Emhyr, the hardness of his cock throbbing and making the heat abate a bit. 

“You said you wanted to be knotted.” Geralt purred. “Well, I would be happy to oblige.”

The blush at Emhyr’s cheeks flowed all the way down his neck and bloomed out across his chest. He leaned back, looking at Geralt in a mixture of awe, fear, and arousal. Geralt licked his lips, as his slitted eyes began to blow wide like a cat right before they pounce. He wanted Emhyr now, with his cock. But he also wanted to taste him. He crawled to him, stopping short, and then took Emhyr’s sizeable cock in his hand, and licked a stripe up it. Emhyr collapsed backwards onto his elbows, and his hips moved. 

“That feels so good.” Emhyr groaned. Geralt knew it would. His cock was red and raw from all the fucking they had been doing, and Geralt mouthed it tenderly, sucking softly so not to overwhelm him. When he felt Emhyr harden fully, he pulled off. 

“Do you want to do it?” Geralt asked, rising up, and stroking his own cock and purring as he did so. 

“Gods… I have never wanted anything more.” The admission must have cost him something because he winced. But Geralt would have none of it. He crawled up, and kissed him fiercely, till Emhyr was shaking and pawing at Geralt. When Geralt pulled away, he brushed his forehead against Emhyr’s for a moment, and then pulled back. 

“Turn around.” Emhyr did as was told, then looked back at Geralt in panic. 

“Oil?” He asked. Geralt smiled, and reached between his legs. When Emhyr saw that his back arched, and Geralt pondered how many had seen Emhyr like this before. He treasured the site even more because Emhyr began to shake. But first… Geralt wanted a taste. He spread Emhyr’s ass apart with his non-slick covered hand. And Emhyr groaned at the contact. He was a hairy beast down here, like many Alphas. And Geralt couldn’t help but burry his nose into his prenium. Emhyr bucked. 

“What are you doing?” He practically shouted. 

“Hold still and You’ll find out.” Geralt growled back. He buried his nose once again. They hadn’t bathed in a number of days, and Emhyr smelled like Geralt and himself. When Geralt licked, the taste of sweat and his sweet slick covered his tongue. He groaned, and Emhyr groaned with him. The musky scent filled his nose, and now he wanted a taste of just Emhyr.

He licked softly over Emhyr’s hole, and Emhyr hissed at the sensation. Then, Geralt began to eat his ass out. Emhyr gasped and pressed back into him, and Geralt chuckled against him. He spread his ass apart, and licked inside it, savoring every taste of him he got. Here above all else, he smelled and tasted of nothing but pure Alpha. It thrilled Geralt, and the slick began to run between his legs liberally. He gathered some up on a fingertip and slid it in. Emhyr cursed, and his back arched. 

“Sensitive hmmmm.” Geralt licked alongside his finger working him open. “Almost Virginal.”

That made Emhyr laugh, but a second finger turned that laugh into a groan. He began to piston his fingers in and out of Emhyr, and Emhyr was tolerating it well, and he soon began to relax into it. 

“It’s been so long.” Emhyr sighed against his arm. Geralt smiled, and pulled away, lubing up his fingers again. Emhyr burred low in his throat as Geralt added a third to the mix. “Yes, that’s it, prepare me well, I want to take all of you, and I don’t want to rip.” 

He could feel Emhyr relaxing, and reached down yet again to get more slick, and this time added a fourth finger. He had done all of this without reaching for his prostate, because he knew, the second he brushed it, he would tense. He grinned to himself. 

“Gonna make you take my fist… your body needs to get used to the idea of a knot, and mine is large.” Geralt licked a small trail along the rim of Emhyr’s ass. 

“Whatever you need to.” Emhyr sighed. This time Geralt took his fingers out, and slicked himself up with everything he had. If Emhyr wasn’t ready after this, Geralt would have to regret that later. 

He made his hand as small as it possibly could go, marveling that Emhyr was already as loose as he was, and he began to slide in. 

“Taking an Alpha’s cock is a different beast.” Geralt purred, and he could feel Emhyr’s body fighting him, though poorly. “And mine is a proper Alpha’s cock. Come on, loosen up.” 

This time when Geralt got his fingers inside, he clenched them in a fist, and Emhyr bucked back into them, groaning. A steady stream of Precum was leaking from him now, and Geralt made a point to use and abuse his prostate for several minutes before withdrawing, leaving Emhyr a shuddering mess. He was so overwrought he couldn’t speak, and he was panting. Geralt’s cock throbbed in answer and his heat finally took a back seat. 

Coating himself in his slick, he removed his fist, and lined his cock up to the hole. He slid in softly, and Emhyr sighed as Geralt pressed his hips in. Geralt could feel his muscles tensing and tightening around him, gripping to him, and he purred. At least his muscles would know what to expect when the time came… he hoped. 

“Move!” The Alpha’s command spurned Geralt into action. Emhyr cried out as Geralt began to move his hips. Geralt smirked, and then huffed a groan as his cock finally got true action after days of being neglected. The slide into and out of Emhyr was electric in a completely different way. The pleasure was sharp, fierce, and on the surface of his skin. But he also wanted to give Emhyr something he had never had before, not truly. Geralt called on his mutations, which sluggishly began to activate after several days of being dormant. He controlled his movements exactly, moving his hips to brush Emhyr’s prostate on every stroke. 

“By the sun!” Emhyr cried out, his back arching. Geralt growled, and then put his large hand on the back of Emhyr’s neck. Emhyr stiffened, his breath stilling. 

“How far do you want me to go.” Geralt purred, his thrusts shallow. 

He could smell now, a small tang of fear, but it was interlaced with arousal so fierce Geralt could taste it on his tongue. He waited for Emhyr to answer.

“Please…” Emhyr breathed, his own voice nearly silent. “I want it all.”

Geralt grinned and set his claws around Emhyr’s neck. Emhyr whimpered, and Geralt took him powerfully. 

“If you tell me to stop I will.” Geralt growled low in his throat, looming over Emhyr’s back.

Emhyr just whimpered, and the small amount of fear disappeared. Geralt’s Omega instincts were going wild, and his heat addled mind was swimming with the idea that he was taking care of his Alpha. His whole body was thrumming with it, and he roared. He pulled Emhyr up, and using his strength he impaled him, licking and nibbling at Emhyr’s neck as he did so. He could feel his knot swelling, and orgasm approaching. He pulled back a little. 

“Are you ready?” Geralt breathed. 

“Please!” Emhyr choked, and Geralt thrust forward. It was a tight squeeze, and Emhyr bucked down, tightening on Geralt’s quickly swelling knot. Geralt reached around to Emhyr’s cock, and he made a wanton noise of pleasure as Geralt moved inside him slowly becoming trapped, but using his mutations to hold steady and wait. 

The feel of every pulse of Emhyr’s cock as his knot began to swell thrilled Geralt, and the feel of his skin under his fingers drove Geralt forward harshly. The smell of Emhyr though, is what made Geralt growl. The smell of him, perfect, submitting even though he was an Alpha. It drove him wild in a way only Dandelion had previous. He gave into the instinct to bite Emhyr’s neck, and as soon as he did Emhyr tensed around him, and Geralt’s knot swelled up. Then Emhyr was screaming. Cum sailed from the tip of his cock in fierce ribbons as Geralt’s knot pressed into his prostate. Geralt’s own orgasm took him by surprise, as his knot had found home, and was being squeezed beautifully. A hand around the knot didn’t do justice to the all-encompassing muscles, and Emhyr? He was vibrating with pleasure. 

Geralt licked the freshly opened wound, reveling in the taste of the Alpha’s blood. Emhyr was whimpering from overstimulation, and Geralt reveled in the noises. He had never in his life imagined the small groans and shudders coming from the man in his grip, but now that he had heard it, he wanted to hear it often. Once the orgasm tapered to middling, Geralt eased Emhyr down into the nest, and rolled him so they were spooning side by side. 

Emhyr was still oversensitive, but he grasped Geralt’s arms, his breath coming in pants as the orgasm seemed to trail onwards for hours. When his breath finally began to slow, and his heart rate along with it Geralt began to purr.

“You did so well, taking my knot like that.” Geralt soothed nuzzling into Emhyr softly and licking the fresh wound on Emhyr’s scent gland. Emhyr relaxed even further, becoming boneless in Geralt’s grip. 

“You are…. Far larger than I anticipated.” Emhyr admitted, shuddering as Geralt’s knot pulsed and cum leaked into Emhyr. “I feel so… so full.”

“It’s heady isn’t it?” Geralt chuckled, and Emhyr shuddered arching his back. “I am sure for you it’s even more so, because you never surrender to anyone.” 

Emhyr sighed softly. 

“No, I do not.” Emhyr said twisting his head to look over his shoulder. “Paid whores have no comparison to this. This is so much more to me then surrender Geralt. I am showing you I trust you.”

The words made Geralt’s breath still, and his heart ache. 

“I know these words mean little, when I so selfishly took advantage of your predicament.” Emhyr’s smell had turned, he was fearful. “But I wanted, for just a moment, to let my guard down. To trust someone with my life. You hold me like a lover, and the instinctual part of my mind knows we are mates now, but the logical part does not. It feels right, but it feels like a dream. And I feel like I have taken advantage of you.” 

Geralt chuckled softly. 

“I let myself be claimed by you because no one, and I mean no one, has offered me the safety you have given me, besides my own kin.” Geralt huffed. “If anything, I took advantage of you. Ciri is a witcher, through and through. Yet, she cannot tolerate the injustice we see at every turn. They treat her just as badly as us, by her profession alone. And she sees the worst humanity has to offer. She sees it, and she wants to change it. The only way she can is if she ascends. And that frightened me.”

Emhyr stiffened in his grip. 

“I had planned on talking to you, on a personal level, when I had arrived, and my heat messed everything up.” Geralt said bowing his head into the nook of Emhyr’s neck. “I wanted to reach a truce before she came, stand on the same ground as you, put some ground rules into place. I can’t be without seeing her again. I knew I couldn’t keep myself away. I was prepared to offer my services as your personal witcher, just so I could remain close.”

Emhyr sighed, his body relaxing. 

“Your offer is extremely Generous.” Emhyr said stroking his arm. “More so from the fact I know you detest politics. Your caste is to remain neutral. So, the fact that you are offering me this, or were prepared to, honors me deeply. But so too does the fact that you wish to be by Ciri’s side. I would love more than anything for you to be the bridge between us, to help guide her, and to assess and assist me in my rule, as I assist and assess Ciri in hers. I had not hoped to find love, when we mated, but companionship, but I do think that bridge is being crossed very quickly.”

Geralt hummed happily into Emhyr’s neck, and licked at the swiftly healing bite.

“The wars are over.” Emhyr said. “At least for now, now we must focus on rebuilding, education, and living. I have been a war monger, and have yet to know peace but for a few blessed years after the signing of the peace accord in Cintra. Even then I had hounds baying at my back. But now? Now I have a counsel most of whom haven’t ever known peace as Nilfgaard has been expanding for several generations. They will push for controversy; they will push to tighten my grip on the people. But my grip is already far too tight, and I fear I will lose the populace if I grip any tighter. You and Ciri know the world like no one else, and I am blind to it, surrounded by those who have lived in luxury their whole lives. I will not demand anything of you Geralt of Rivia, but your total undying love for my daughter. But, should you choose to help me, and to help her, I would be eternally grateful.”

Geralt took a shallow breath in, his wants warring with everything he had known his whole life. Everything about Emhyr was right. He was not lying about this, nor could he at this juncture. He spoke with hope, and Geralt knew, the bright young soul who he saw in Duny all those years ago had not been lost. 

“I will, Emhyr. I will.” 

Two weeks later saw Emhyr growling at a gaggle of his aids. The call for Anna Henrietta to be arrested had caused all sorts of grief, until Fringilla had returned and presented so much evidence against her, it was viewed as a slight against his spy network. He had been angry about that, because the Duchess had been paying his spies off, and handsomely. But the thing that had set his group of ambassadors and the whole of the Senate off, was the fact that Emhyr had claimed an Omega that had not been chosen for the throne. He had claimed him, and he just so happened to have been the lynchpin against Anna Henrietta, who was still well loved by her people. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and Geralt rested a hand on his shoulder. There was still gasps every time Geralt did, but Emhyr was able to ignore them now. This was requested by a distant cousin of Emhyr’s by the name of Guy de Bois-Fresnes. He had come in here angry, but now he sat embittered, as news of what had truly befallen his second cousin’s regiment had come to light. What had happened next had shocked everyone, including Emhyr, as Guy sat down and had a tell all of what Anna Henrietta had been doing with her pilfered funds. 

An independent army. 

He would have to add insurrection to the list of crimes.

But his frustration lay not with what Guy had spoken of, and he pointedly said he would reward the man for coming forward, even though he himself was a part of the plot. Geralt had advised him that showing leniency was a good thing, especially to those who were desperate. Guy may have been a noble, but he reeked of desperation. No, now his aids, and the senators present were speaking of trade in whispered tones, and how it would be stymied by the loss of Anna Henrietta. And what that truly ment was, they didn’t want to pay more than they already did for wine.

Cheap bastards. 

Morvran, bless his soul, was trying to explain to them that Anna Henrietta had been falsely inflating export prices for years, and had also added an import tax to goods coming from elsewhere in the empire, so it would force people to spend money on the inflated prices within the duchy. In fact, he had paperwork, nearly three feet thick of trade agreements with fudged numbers. When he finally got frustrated and said that things would be cheaper, they had brushed him off, and now they were arguing loudly. 

“Enough.” Emhyr’s voice cut through the din surrounding him. “Just because he is young, and fresh from the fronts, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t know what he is doing. Morvran has a head for numbers, and I trust him implicitly, both as the leader of the merchant’s guild, as well as my treasurer. If he says that importing wine, which is what this argument is truly about, is going to be cheaper, then it is.”

It almost looked like one of the Senators was going to argue with him, but he held his tongue. The rest nearly all instantly flushed in shame, as Emhyr had indeed seen through their arguments and like he was known for, cut straight to the quick. 

“But Castle Revello… the crops….”

“Do not worry about your high-end wines.” Geralt spoke up, knowing full well that he was speaking out of turn, but didn’t give a damn about it. “My brother Eskel has taken a break from the path, and is seeing to my own vineyard. The wine that comes from Corvo Bianco, and any of our vineyard partners will eclipse anything castle Revello has ever produced, with even the cheapest of shit tasting better than Sangreal.”

“And what would you know of it?” One of the ambassadors sneered. 

“Well, I can tell you now that it is a simple dornfielder red, and that it has had its color deepened by blood oranges which are imported from Nazir and Ebbing. It also has a hint of mint, some turmeric, and last but not least, sugar added. You can take any cheap easy to produce dornfielder, add those things to it, let it set for a month, and you will have Sangreal.” 

You could hear a pin drop.

“So, as you can see, there is no need to panic, and in fact, we should focus on the important matters.” Emhyr guided the discussion back on track, and everyone was mollified by Geralt’s observation. Emhyr was thankful for Geralt’s addition because they finally got the meeting back on track, and flowing. 

It was nearly time to break for lunch when there was a commotion outside the doors. The guards closed in and Geralt drew his sword. When the doors to his formal office slammed open, Geralt immediately stilled, but the sight he saw made him drop the sword straight on the ground.

“Da?” Ciri blinked when she saw Geralt, her enraged expression shifting to an Elated one. “Da!!!”

Without any thought at all Geralt rushed forward and Ciri squealed as she threw her arms around his neck. Then just as quickly, she pushed off him, confusion entering her gaze. She gave him a sniff, wrinkled her nose, and then looked to his neck, where his open collar showed his claim mark. 

“Eskel said you got into some trouble… and I came here as fast as I could.” Ciri reached out and touched the mark, her eyes hardening. 

“No trouble.” Geralt coughed, and Emhyr stood. Everyone in the office bowed as Emhyr stood, and the motion drew Ciri’s eyes to him. 

“Hello daughter.” Emhyr said, his tone overly formal. His scent was anything but. It was cascading with fear and nervousness, and Geralt was compelled to ignore Ciri in favor of comforting Emhyr. Emhyr spoke quickly. “This audience is adjourned for now.” 

His dismissal was absolute, and as everyone practically dashed through the door, Geralt wound around the desk. Ciri was looking around in confusion as people bowed and attempted to walk out backwards, and ran into each other in their haste. She didn’t see Geralt move.

“You ok?” He asked, and he saw Emhyr’s hands tighten on the desk like he was holding onto it for dear life. He shook his head minutely, and Geralt looked to Ciri, who was watching the others leave. Emhyr’s breathing was harsh, but you wouldn’t have been able to tell unless you looked at his nose, which was flaring with the effort to get more air into his lungs. Geralt rested a hand on the back of Emhyr’s neck, and Emhyr looked to Geralt gratefully. 

Ciri took that moment to turn, and when she did, when she saw the body language between the two of them, her brows furrowed. 

“What happened, Geralt?” Ciri asked, her tone quiet, and Emhyr looked to her. 

“It’s a long story.” Geralt said, motioning for Emhyr to sit back down, which Emhyr did, and he didn’t even fight Geralt to do so. Mererid stepped in, while Emhyr recovered a little, and offered refreshments to Ciri, and she happily took them, drinking the watered wine with relish.

Once that was done, Ciri looked between Emhyr and Geralt, and noticed Emhyr too sported a new scar along his nearly covered neck. She was an Omega herself, so there was no more explanation needed. 

“You are bonded to him.” She stated to Geralt, and Geralt nodded softly. Emhyr took a deep breath in. 

“We are bonded to each other.” Geralt said, and looked to Emhyr who was fighting control over his emotions. 

“Ciri…. My daughter…” He looked up to her, and Ciri gasped. He had tears in his eyes. The last time they had met, he was surrounded by sycophants, and he spoke with no emotion. Geralt was there, and he remembered it clearly. But Ciri had also suffered greatly because of him, and she hardened her gaze. 

“Geralt has earned the right to call me daughter.” Ciri stated fiercely. “You have not.”

Geralt felt proud of her in that moment. Even though Emhyr was hurting, Ciri had been hurt for far longer, and had suffered greatly because of his fall from grace. 

“I understand.” Emhyr said, his voice watery and breathless. “And you are right, I have not, yet you are my daughter all the same.”

“Geralt, did he bond you unwillingly?” Ciri turned her fierce gaze to Geralt, and had her hand on her sword. The guards tensed, but they would not draw against Ciri. 

“Actually, I felt safe here.” Geralt shrugged. “I went into heat, and then I demanded it.”

That had stunned Ciri, and her brows lowered. 

“I demanded it, and he still asked, even after I begged for it, if I was serious, and I was.” Geralt stated. 

“And this isn’t some ploy to keep me here?” She looked to Emhyr, and Geralt realized in that moment that her forgoing witchering was never a done deal. He felt like an idiot. He had jumped to conclusions thinking the worst, and his damned Omega instincts had forced him into action. 

“Far from it.” Emhyr stated. “If you choose to be here, I will be happy. If you choose to remain a witcher, Geralt will be happy. Both decision that are on the table have a positive outcome from our perspectives. I know that you have suffered on the path in your time as a witcher, and you have seen the world in ways that most royalty has not. As an unclaimed Omega female, you have a unique perspective that goes well beyond most. If nothing else your unique perspective on the plight of our people will be worth its weight in saffron.”

“Ciri, what me and Emhyr have? As odd as It is, it is us.” Geralt grinned softly, and Ciri looked up to him. “You just happen to be the boon in the arrangement, as both of us place your safety and well-being over our own comfort.”

“I find that suspect.” Ciri looked back down to Emhyr. 

“He can’t lie to me.” Geralt insisted. “You know I can smell it if he lies. And there is no magic between us, you know full well how to scan with your amulet, as well as with what you were taught.”

Ciri looked between them, biting her lip. Then she sighed. 

“Tell it to me from the beginning then.” 

Geralt sat down, placing a comforting hand on the back of Emhyr’s neck, and he began to speak. 

“To understand this, we have to go back to the beginning. Back when I was just a boy…”

They spoke for hours, and by the end of it they were all exhausted. Geralt however could smell the change in Ciri as she listened to Emhyr. Once he had finished the story, she rounded the desk, and for the first time since she was a small child, she hugged him. 

The bliss in Emhyr’s eyes as he stoked her hair and sobbed into her shoulder, Geralt would remember for all of his days. 

They were going to be ok, and this? This was the start of something new.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little break fic for me from Bib!!!! Love you all!!!


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